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Depository, 13 CoRxnu.L. 

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Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1856, 

By the Massachusetts Saebath School Society, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 

A. J. \7risht, Printer, 1 M'ater street. 



IMrs. Lydia B. Bacon ^vas tlie eldest child of Mr. Levi 
and Mrs. Mary Stetson, and was born in Boston, (of 
wliicli city tier parents were also natives,) May lOth, 
1786. Of her infancy and childhood it has not been 
the fortune of her biographer to collect other than the 
briefest record. Her parents having now been long- 
deceased, and her surviving sisters being many years 
younger than herself, it has been impossible to gather 
those details and incidents of her earliest years which 
it would be so desirable to furnish. A few extracts 
from letters received in answer to an application for 
information upon this point is all that can here be 

Says one, *' Lydia was always a good child, and very 
obedient to her parents. As a child, she was of very 
sedate habits and conscientious principles ; a good 
scholar also, and very fond of reading ; ardent in her 
attachments and well calculated to gain friends." 

Another correspondent, after confirming the above, 
adds, " hers was a happy temperament naturally. 
From childhood she viewed mankind and their conduct 
through a bright medium, always thinking and speak- 


ing well of every one so long as it was possible. Sucli 
a temper and habit sanctified, was a blessed possession, 
shedding love and peace on all around ber.'' 

Another writes, " Lydia was a very sedate child, 
always orderly, neat, and industrious ; carefully ob- 
servant of the proprieties of life, as well as nicely 
attentive to the feelings and wishes of others, particu- 
larly if they were her elders or superiors. Indeed, 
reverence for age and authority seemed constitutional 
with her.'' That these traits which budded in her 
early childhood came to a rich maturity in her riper 
years, and bore most precious fruit, all who knew Mrs. 
Bacon, will bear the most unqualified testimony. 

But it will doubtless be asked by a reader here, was 
the youthful Lydia a child of God? We are con- 
strained to answer — no. This was her ovm testimony, 
repeatedly given to the writer of these pages as well as 
to many other friends : " I thouglit I loved God when I 
was a child,'' she would say, " and indeed I should then 
have been very much grieved had any one questioned 
it, but it was the Grod of Xature, only, or perhaps 
rather the God of my oivn imagination whom I loved. 
I was an enthusiastic admirer of Nature, and knowing 
it to be the handiwork of God, I loved him as its 
author. Sometimes, too, I admired Him as the God 
of providence, particularly when I saw some striking 
manifestation of his interposing hand in my own favor, 
or in that of my friends. But the God of the gospel — a 
Being infinitely holy, hating sin and bound to punish 
the guilty — such a God was not in all my thoughts." 

This statement is corroborated by one who knew her 
well, and who in answer to inquiries respecting her 


early religious character says, '' Lydia was always a 
serious-mincled girl, loving the liouse and people of 
God, but I think, without a radical change of heart until 
after her residence at Sackett's Harbor. There Christ 
revealed himself to her as her Saviour, and there she 
consecrated her all to him, and was as actively engaged 
in Christian efforts as since you have known her." 

Early in the spring of 1807 she was happily married 
to Mr. Josiah Bacon who was not only a resident of 
her native city, but had been for years her school com- 
panion and playmate. More than once has the writer 
heard her pleasantly allude to this fact, and to their 
early mutual attachment, which resulted in their union 
at the age of twenty-two. Her husband having a mil- 
itary taste, soon after entered the Army of the United 
States as a Commissioned Officer, being Lieutenant 
and Quarter-master in the 4th regiment of IT. S. 
Infantry, then commanded by Col. John P. Boyd. 
After being stationed at Fort Independence, and also 
at Fort Hale for a season, the regiment to which Mr. 
Bacon belonged was ordered to Pittsburgh, Pennsyl- 
vania, and his young wife at once resolved to accom- 
pany him. We, who enjoy the present facilities for 
travel can hardly imagine the tedium of a voyage from 
Boston to Pittsburgh forty-four years ago. I am sure 
I shall startle the flying passengers upon our railways, 
when I state that thirty-eight days hardly sufficed to 
make the journey which is now compassed in as many 
hours. Surely if the succeeding forty years shall 
witness an equal rate of improvement in the speed of 
traveling, the inventive genius of the next half-cen- 
tury will be taxed to devise JwldbacJcs. 


But to return to our narrative, wliicli will now be 
continued in Mrs. Bacon's own words, slie having pre- 
pared (at tlic request of a favorite nephew) an account 
of her travels, and of the scenes through which she 
passed during the well-remembered war of 1812. This 
account, as she states, was made up from letters writ- 
ten at the time to her friends, and extracts from her 
journal, and commences with the date of her embarka- 
tion with the troops for Philadelphia en route for Pitts- 
burgh, whither her husband, as Commissary, had pre- 
ceded his regiment to prepare for its arrival. 

^^ 3fay 9tJi, 1811. Having obtained mother's consent 
that my sister A. (just 15 years of age) should accom- 
pany us as far as Philadelphia, we proceeded to the 
fort in the barge which had been sent to convey us to 
the vessel which was there waiting for the troops to em- 
bark. We arrived safe on board about eight o'clock in 
the evening, and commenced our voyage with a fair 
wind and fine weather. The second day out I was very 
sea-sick, but my young sister proved an excellent 
sailor, not being affected at all by the motion of the 
vessel. On the third day out, we arrived at Martha's 
Vineyard, where we were detained by headwinds for 
several days. But this was not at all unpleasant, for 
us, as we had friends with whom we passed our time 
very agreeably. 

''^ May lQ>th. Continued our voyage very pleasantly, 
although my former companion (sea-sickness) returned 
the moment we left the land, and remained with me 
until we saw it again, which was not for several days. 


I kept on deck, however, as mucli as possible, finding 
that the best remedy for sickness. 

" On going up the Delaware Bay, as if to vary the 
scene, a thundergust overtook us. It was of short 
duration, but very violent. Sickness confined me 
wholly to my berth during the squall, but my sister 
enjoyed the sublimity of the scene very much ; it being 
the first storm at sea which she had ever witnessed. 
Indeed, she would not leave the deck until the captain 
thought it imprudent for her to remain any longer. 
When we entered Delaware Eiver, my disagreeable 
companion (sea-sickness) fled, leaving me to the full 
enjoyment of the fine air and beautiful scenery which 
surrounded me. Noble farms upon each side of the 
river attracted our gaze, and delighted us with the 
plenty and comfort which they exhibited. The con- 
trast was great with what we had left at home, for at 
this early season in New England, vegetation had but 
just commenced, and here all the first fruits were rap- 
idly advancing to maturity. We went ashore at the 
Lazaretto, where we were to stop for a short time. This 
place is a few miles from the city of Philadelphia, and 
enchanted us with the luxuriance of its vegetation. 
Here we amused ourselves with examining all that 
was curious ; among which were some old trees which 
had been wounded in the Revolutionary War, and still 
contained the shot embedded in their trunks. 

" At this place we found other companies belonging to 
the same regiment as ours which had been ordered 
here to meet us. These companies had been previously 
stationed at New London, Connecticut, and at New 
Castle, Delaware. The captain of the company from 


New Castle was accompanied by liis wife, a lovely 
woman, with wliom I formed a friendship which solaced 
many an hour while our beloved husbands were on 
duty, separated from us, and which continued while life 

This lady (Mrs. Capt. ) died some years since 

and was heartily mourned by her friend, IMrs. B. 
Often has the writer heard the latter speak of this 
friend, of the pleasures and trials which they shared 
together, and well does she recall the touching em- 
phasis with which she once said '' she was the sister of 
my souL'^ This is mentioned as a proof of the tender- 
ness and constancy of her friendsliips. But we will 
resume the narrative. 

" We had relatives in Philadelphia whom we antici- 
pated seeing as soon as we should arrive. But it was 
not convenient to go to the city the first night, and we 
were obliged to remain at the Lazaretto, which we 
would gladly have avoided ; for the place was so 
crowded on account of the additional troops that we 
were compelled to take such acommodations as we could 
get. For the first time in our lives, sister A. and myself 
reposed upon the floor, with a blanket and pillow. This 
of course seemed rather hard to those who had always 
been accustomed to a soft bed, but we were young, 
and blest with a good share of health and spirits which 
soon made seeming difficulties vanish. 

" The next morning we went to the beautiful city of 
Philadelphia which I had so long wished to behold, and 

were received by our dear Cousin P with all the 

cordiality which we could expect or desire. Our friends 
did all tlicy could to make the time there pass pleas- 


antly and profitably, but alas ! tlicj passed swiftly 
also, and soon tlie day arrived when we must be sepa- 
rated from them, and from my dear young sister who 
must return to our parents in Boston. The remem- 
brance of this visit will never leave me ; those were 
some of ' the white days ' which a kind and beneficent 
Providence strews in our path as we pursue our pil- 
ffrimao-e. I never saw those dear cousins ao'ain, for 
they paid the debt of nature a few years after. 

^^ June Isf, 1811. The troops took up the line of 
march from Philadelphia for Pittsburgh, and Mrs. P., 
Mrs. G. and myself went in the stage-coach, under the 
care of a nephew of Col. Boyd's who was traveling for 
his health. The weather was serene, the roads were 
good, and all nature appeared in its richest dress. The 
land from Philadelphia to Chambersburgh, (which lies 
at the foot of the Alleghany mountains,) is rich and 
highly cultivated. Large farms with barns of spacious 
dimensions, built of stone, meet the eye in every direc- 
tion. But our attention was particularly attracted by 
the sight of Dutch girls performing the labor of men in 
the fields, and we w^ere greatly amused by seeing large 
numbers of swine feeding in rich clover up to their 
backs. I had often heard of ^ ings- in clover ^^ but 
never saw it realized before. 

" PittsburgTi, June 2Gt7i. We arrived here ten days 
since, after a somewhat tedious but delightful journey 
— tedious on account of the extreme roughness of the 
roads over the mountains, which did not fulfill the 
promise of the commencement of our ride. And yet we 


found great delight in tlie beauty of tlie landscape by 
which we were continually surrounded. For on every 
side was exhibited to our admiring gaze a constant 
succession of scenery at once grand, sublime, awful and 
sweet. A variety of emotions filled my mind at these 
surveys of God's works ; every thing seemed calculated 
for instruction, comfort and pleasure. And while con- 
templating these wonders and beauties our sense of de- 
pendence on their Divine Author seemed more firmly 
fixed in our hearts. Oh, could we be sensible of 
his goodness to us we should not let a murmuring 
thought arise, but should be wholly resigned to his will, 
whatever that will might be. 

" The stages over the mountains were very bad, the 
roads equally so ; and we were obliged to walk the 
horses in the ascent for several miles together. Some- 
times for a change we would all get out and walk, and 
during the roughest of the way the seats were taken 
out from our vehicle, straw spread upon the bottom of 
it, and the passengers stowed in like baggage. But to 
those who desired to view the landscape as we passed 
along, the last arrangement was most unsatisfactory, 
and we resolved that we would rather endure the jolting 
upon our seats than be deprived of this pleasure. So 
the seats were restored, and you may just imagine to 
yourself Lydia seated at the coach window, to which she 
was obliged to hold on with both hands, straining every 
nerve and muscle to maintain her equilibrium. 

*' On one side my neighbor's elbow was constantly 
pounding me, on the other the stage, which was neither 
lined or stuffed, was bruising me, while my head was 
often thrown against the top till I feared my brains 


would be dashed out. But all this I bravely endured 
for the sake of beholding the scenery. 

" At a distance the mountains towered to the clouds, 
and in some instances the tops were lost in them. On 
one side, and within a foot or two of the carriage wheels 
fell an awful precipice, at whose base a beautiful river 
quietly glided along, unmindful alike of the danger or 
the admiration of the travelers. After a little turning 
we would ride through this stream and then again cross 
it upon a rude bridge, and often afterward it would be 
seen in the distance. We were obliged to lock the 
wheels upon descending the mountains, and when we 
came to a narrow place in the road the driver would 
blow his tin horn vociferously to warn any teams which 
might be approaching to avoid danger by stopping 
where we could safely pass them. The distance across 
the mountains by the road which we traveled vfas one 
hundred and sixty miles, and this it took us several 
days to accomplish. 

" There are some pretty and thrifty villages among 
the mountains, where we passed the nights during our 
journey. The one which pleased me most was called 
Bedford. We lodged there the second night. It was 
situated in a beautiful valley, which was watered by a 
very lovely stream — the Juniata. I was reminded of 
Johnson's Kasselas, who was born in a similar valley, 
and like it so entirely surrounded by mountains that he 
lived to the age of man ere he learned there was any 
other world beside the spot he inhabited." 

The following description of Pittsburgh, to which 
place Mrs. Bacon's journey had now brought her, it will 
be recollected, was written more than forty years ago. 


Its appearance as described here, is, of course, in striking 
contrast with its present aspect, and may not only afford 
amusement but instruction, as indicating the rapid 
strides of our Young America : 

" Pittsburgh is a pleasant village surrounded by 
mountains. On one side the Monongahela river laves 
its banks, on the other the pure waters of the Alleghany 
unite and mingle with the beautiful Ohio. This village 
is famed for its manufactories ; the people appear very 
industrious and engrossed in the all important business 
of accumulating wealth. A great deal of coal is used 
here, which gives the village a very dirty appearance. 
The children's faces (as you see them in the street) look 
as if they were strangers to water, though so many 
beautiful rivers are running by their doors. 

" We have seen a number of factories and a large flour 
mill, the labor of which is expedited by steam, the flour 
being carried by this means through all its different 
grades until it is snugly packed in the barrel ! There 
is also a fine glass factory here. We saw some of the 
cut glass — the first ever done in our country. The 
first steamboat ever built for these waters has just been 
launched ; if it were now ready we might have the 
pleasure of going in it. We visited Grant's Hill, a 
place conspicuous not so much from the loftiness of its 
summit as from its having been a scene of battle during 
the Kevolutionary war. We had a terrible thunder-storm 
to-day ; the thunder was tremendous, accompanied with 
vivid lightning and with rain, which drenched the 
streets like a flood. I believe the thunder is always 
more violent among: the mountains than in a level 
country. The heat is oppressive, but it does not make 


US sick. All kinds of provisions are clieap and of a 
good quality. 

*' The military quarters are small and will not accom- 
modate all our regiment. The Colonel resides with his 
staff at the quarters, with the exception of my husband^ 
who prefers to live iviih his tvife, the rest board or live in 
hired houses. Lieut. G. and wife, Josiah and myself, 
with some of our brother officers, have hired a new 
brick house on Market street, and all live at one table. 
For this my husband provides, and sees that our fare is 
cooked and served in good order. This is but little 
trouble, as we have plenty of servants, and those that 
are pretty fair, though all men. 

** The military quarters here were built by General 
Wilkinson, and resemble an elegant country seat. In 
the rear of the house (which is both commodious and 
splendid,) is a large garden arranged with much taste. 
All kinds of fruit trees, shrubbery and flowers charm 
the eye and please the palate, while the odors which 
perfume the air leave nothing wanting which a refined 
taste could desire. A canal runs through this garden, 
over wdiich is a Chinese bridge with seats around it. 
The Colonel has tea-parties frequently, and entertains 
his company in the garden, while an excellent band at 
a distance and unseen discourses fine music. The whole 
appears like enchantment. At one of these parties a 
few days since I w^as sitting on the bridge under the 
shade of a beautiful tree in conversation with some of 
the company. Happening to cast my eye into a walk 
at some little distance, I saw our gallant Colonel upon 
his knees presenting to a beautiful damsel her glove 
which she had let fall, perhaps on purpose. This chiv- 


alrous incident amused me mucli, especially in connec- 
tion witli their difference in age, the gentleman being 
more than fifty and the young maiden I should judge 
about sixteen. 

" July 27 til. Since writing the above we have received 
orders to proceed to Newport, Kentucky, on the Ohio 
River, about five hundred miles from this place. We 
are to descend the river in keel-boats, covered like 
houses ; the sides w^e can open or close as we please, 
and stop at night if we choose. The river is narrow, 
and in many places you can call across it and be heard 
quite plain. We are told that it is very pleasant sail- 
ing on the river, but we should greatly prefer stopping 
here for the present. We are comfortably quartered, 
are much pleased with the people, who are both atten- 
tive and hospitable, hut go we must. The evenings 
here are delightful after the excessive heat of the day. 
Soon as the sun retires, the families sit at their doors, 
or walk with uncovered heads, that they may enjoy the 
soft breezes of twilight. Sometimes our band, in a 
boat, will navigate each side of the village and send 
forth exquisite strains of music. These echoing among 
the mountains produce a charming effect, reminding me 
of something which I have read of but never expected 
to realize. All this is truly delightful, but we must 
leave it. The Indians are committing depredations 
upon the white inhabitants located upon our Western 
frontier, and the Governor of Indiana has requested 
some regular troops to assist in keeping them quiet. 
This is the cause of our removal at tliis time. 


" August 2d, 10 A. M. Embarked on board the boats 
for Newport. The fleet, (if I may so call it,) consisted 
of eleven boats. Ou7' party consists of Mr. and Mrs. 

A with ber two young brothers, Mr. G and 

wife, husband and self We went forty miles to-day, 
and at night stopped at Custard Island. The ground 
not being good we slept in the boats, and a curious 
figure we made indeed. "We were obliged to place our 
beds on the floor of the cabin, and we ladies slept there 
together, while our husbands spread blankets upon the 
seats or lockers at the sides of the cabin, and all thus 
enjoyed comfortable repose, after the novelty of the 
scene allowed us composure to court the drowsy god. 
This is a very pleasant way of traveling. We are as 
comfortable as if in a house, have our regular meals 
cooked and served in good style by our own servants, 
and our reading, conversation and needlework, together 
with our admiration of the passing scenery, fills up the 
time pleasantly and profitably. 

" This river is very winding, and in some places 
the bends are so peculiar that you seem to be sailing 
upon a pond with no outlet, and wonder how you are 
ever to find your way out. And at such times I cannot 
help fancying the Indians with their tomahawks and 
scalping knives peeping at us from behind the trees and 
bushes, and ready to raise their murderous yells. 

''August 3d We were awoke at daylight by the 
reveille, and left Custard Island about five o'clock in the 
morning. We passed the towns of Steubenville an 
Charleston, both of which are handsome places. The 
weather is fair and there is a fine breeze on the water. 


^^EigJit o'clock, P. M. It is a lovely moonliglit evening, 
and we have stopped at the foot of a beautiful bank on 
which are several log houses swarming with children, 
who seem as merry and happy as possible. The soldiers 
have pitched their tents, made their fires and are pre- 
paring their suppers. The ladies are making their 
husband's beds, and every thing is lively around me. 
How I wish my distant friends could take a peep at us 
and help me laugh. 

" August 4^th. We were aroused this morning by the 
drums beating the tune which accompanies these words : 

* Don't you hear yom- General say, 
Strike your tents and march away.' 

Our pilot plays v/ell upon the bugle, and the echoes and 
re-echoes among the hills are wonderful and delightful. 
One infant has died to-day ; happy child, thus early 
escaped from this world of sin and sorrow, and gone 
where there will be no more sickness and no more 
death ! It was a soldier's babe ; the ofiicers have no 
children with them. We are having a pleasant time. 
The river is perfectly smooth, and we are going with 
the stream ; of course we pass along very rapidly. Our 
boat is seventy feet long, twelve wide and seven high. 
It has no sails, and is propelled by twent3^-two oars. 
There are many small islands in the river, which add 
much to its beauty. 

" We were obliged to stop at one o'clock on account of 
a squall coming on. For awhile the prospect seemed 
rather gloomy ; but the tempest soon passed by, doing 


US no damage, and we proceeded on our way. The 
weather was most delightful after the shower, and I 
longed to have my friends here to enjoy the scene with 

" August iJtJi, P. 31. Stopped at Marietta, which lies 
upon the Ohio and Muskingum rivers. The inhabitants 
are principally New Englanders, who were engaged in 
the employment of building vessels. This they found 
very lucrative ; but the embargo came and put a stop 
to their business, and of course injured the place very 
much. My husband and myself, in walking about the 
streets, were struck with the stillness which prevailed. 
In consequence of the dullness of business many of the 
inhabitants have moved away ; in some of the streets 
we found the clover quite high, and in others there was 
hardly a footpath. I was forcibly reminded of Gold- 
smith's Deserted Village. The place is beautifully 
situated and well laid out, and we walked until fatigue 
compelled me to return to our boat. But my husband 
with some of his brother officers rambled farther to 
visit some Indian mounds in the vicinity. 

*' I hoped to have gone ashore at Blennerhasset 
Island, but the rain prevented me. It must be well 
worth seeing, if the description of it which I have just 
read from 'The Western Tour' be correct. A short 
extract from that account I will here copy for the 
benefit of my friends : 

" ' On ascending the bank from the landing, one 
quarter of a mile below the Eastern end of the island, 
we entered a handsome double gate with pillars of hewn 
stone. A graveled walk led us about one hundred and 


fifty paces to the house. This was situated with a 
meadow on the left, and a shruhhery on the right, 
separated hy a low hedge, through which we could see 
innumerahle flowers displaying themselves to the sun. 
The house is large and handsome. The shruhhery 
before mentioned was well stocked with all manner of 
flowers, and a variety of evergreens, (not only those nat- 
ural to the climate, hut exotics,) surrounded the walks, 
whicli were graveled and wound in labyrinthine style, 
through this enchanted spot. The garden is not large 
but seems to have every variety of fruit, flowers and 
vegetables which this fine climate and luxurious soil 
could produce. In short, Blennerhasset's Island is a 
most charming retreat for a man of fortune' fond of 
retirement, and is perhaps not exceeded in beauty by 
any situation in this Western world. It lacks, however, 
the variety of mountains, precipice, cataract, distant 
prospect, &c., which constitute the grand and sublime.' 

" The foregoing description was given several years 
ago. Since then the unfortunate owner was concerned 
with Aaron Burr in his treasonable designs against the 
Union, and was obliged to abscond from this charming 
retreat. At present its inhabitants are a few slaves, 
who raise hemp. The entrance is choked with bushes, 
yet the whole has a romantic appearance. The farther 
we proceed down this river the more level the country 
becomes and the more cultivated ; indeed, we have 
almost lost sight of the mountains. 

" August QtJi, A. 31. Cur boats, last night, were 
locked two together, yet the current drifted us forty 
miles. It was a dark, rainy night, but the Colonel 


"being anxious to reacli Newport as soon as possible 
tlionglit best to continue on instead of sto2:)ping for the 

nigbt as heretofore. We went over L Ealls, but I 

did not see tbeni, because old JMorpbeus bad blinded my • 
eyes. We ladies experienced no inconvenience from 
this arrangement, but our poor husbands were obliged 
to take their watch on deck, and in consequence were 
wet to the skin. We are at this moment opposite a log 
house situated in a cornfield, and the corn is actually 
higher than the house. We can just see a troop of chil- 
dren playing about the door. 

'^August 7 th. We drifted much last night, and this 
morning stopped half an hour and landed at a thrifty 

farm. Here we found a son of old Justice G , of 

Boston. In early life he married a young lady in St. 
Domingo, and they were happily residing on that island 
when an insurrection among the blacks obliged him to 
flee with his wife and mother. They succeeded in 
reaching this country with a remnant of their property, 
and settled upon the Ohio. Here they have remained 
twelve years ; they ivork hard but sleep sound. Their 
greatest trouble is the want of educational privileges for 
their children, who are very intelligent and promising. 
Having heard of a good school about twenty miles from 
their location, (this was the nearest within their reach,) 
the father with two of his children accompanied us in 
our boat. We found him a very intelligent and agree- 
able companion. 

^^ August Sth. Although our boats were lashed 
together last night, yet two ran ashore in consequence 


of tlie fog, and a soldier sleeping on deck, encumbered 
with a heavy watcli coat, &c., fell overboard and sunk 
to rise no more. Poor fellow ! be was summoned in an 
unexpected moment into an unknown world, and left 
some hearts to bleed, no doubt, for his untimely end. 
Our boat got on to what they call a sawyer. These are 
trees carried by freshets into the river, and catching to 
the bottom. When the water is low, (vv^hich is generally 
the case at this season of the year,) these sawyers are 
very dangerous. The tops being just above water, 
boats often catch in them and are much damaged, and 
sometimes sunk. When we struck, the jar and noise 
awoke us from a sound sleep, and alarmed us not a 
little ; but a kind Providence preserved us from 
destruction, and we received no material damage. 

" We stopped this evening at a beautiful place with- 
out a name, and took a pleasant walk along the bank. 
We are in the habit of buying butter, eggs, &c., as we 
go along, and have found them abundant, cheap and 
good. Needing some butter now, we called at a house 
hoping to have our wants supplied ; but the good house- 
wife very carelessly told us that she had been making 
soap that day, and not having sufficient grease had 
supplied the deficiency with butter. What a country, 
thought I, where people can afford to use sweet butter 
for soap grease ! 

" August 9th. Arrived at Newport and found decent 
quarters in a comfortable location. This is a military 
depot. Cincinnati lies directly opposite, and is said to 
he a flourishing toivn. I intend going to see it to-day. 

" The view, as seen from this side of the river reminds 


me more of Boston than any place that I have yet seen. 
Thirty years ago it was almost a wilderness. I can 
only account for its rapid growth by the fact that the 
settlers are principally Yankees. I long much to see 
my dear mother and sisters, and New England friends, 
but as my beloved husband was obliged to come here, 
I have never for a moment regretted that I accompa- 
nied him. It is a great comfort that we can be 
together, and I have the satisfaction of feeling that I 
am performing my duty. This place is healthy, we 
are both well, the season is delightful, and we have an 
abundance of fruit, which is here both plenty and 
cheap. How long we shall be allowed to remain here 
is altogether uncertain. We are now awaiting farther 
orders. I hope they may be to stay here or to return 
to Pittsburgh, but fear we shall be destined still farther 

At Newport, Capt. and Mrs. Bacon formed the 
acquaintance of a family by the name of Taylor. The 
gentleman was a brother of General Taylor, afterwards 
President of the United States. He owned a beautiful 
plantation a short distance from the military quarters, 
upon the bank of the river, and treated Mr. and Mrs. 
B. with the utmost attention and hospitality. He 
often sent them delicious fruit, aud frequently invited 
them to his house. Years afterward, Mrs. Bacon writes, 
" Very pleasant is the recollection of the hours passed 
in their society. Sweet was our social converse when 
seated in the calm twilight, on the front piazza, over- 
looking the splendid lawn which spread its green car- 
pet to the edge of the river. The fruit trees on either 
side of the mansion were loaded with their rich treas- 


iires wliicli not only delighted the eye but regaled the 

^^ S&pt, 2d, 1811. Oar fears are realized; ^ye arc 
ordered still farther west, and ao;ain find ourselves in 
our boats upon the Ohio. We have much to engage 
our attention, but my thoughts often recur to my 
absent friends, whom I fondly love, and I trust that 
neither time or distance will ever diminish my affec- 
tion. I have no female companion \Aih. me on the 
boat now. Our family consists of Col., Capt. S., hus- 
band and self. Our cabin is quite large, and we are 
very well accommodated. On account of the lowness of 
the water, which renders navigation dangerous by 
night, our boats stop at evening, and those who choose, 
can sleep in tents on shore. 

'' Sept. 3d Last night the boats were anchored under 
a high bank, and as the summit presented nothing 
very inviting, we hardly thought it worth while to 
ascend it. But our minds were soon changed by the 
report of some of the gentlemen whose curiosity led 
them to reconnoitre a little distance. They brought 
with them some beautiful straw hats which they had 
purchased of a Swiss family, whom they found located a 
short distance from the river. About thirty families 
had taken up their residence here, being driven from 
their own country by the troubles in France. They 
fled to our peaceful shores, and purchasing some land 
of our government, planted vineyards, the produce of 
which enables them to realize the comfort and inde- 
pendence which they fondly anticipated. 


" We purcliasecl some of their wine made from Madeira 
and other grapes, and those who considered themselves 
judges of the article pronounced it excellent. But for 
my part, I much prefer the grapes unpressed. We 
went into one of the vineyards ; it was a charming 
sight. The house was pleasantly situated, and the 
yard laid out with good taste. "We approached the 
front door through rows of vines (supported by poles 
five or six feet high) loaded with clusters of ripe 
grapes, while the peach and nectarine trees swept the 
ground, so heavily were they laden with the delicious 
fruit. The family were neatly dressed ; a number of 
fine, healthy children adorned the front yard, the grass 
of which having been newly mown, perfumed the air 
with its fragrance. It was one of the finest twilights 
I ever saw. We tarried until the full-orbed moon 
warned us that it was time to depart. We left with 
great reluctance, and like our mother Eve, on leaving 
her beautiful Eden, we cast a long and lingering look 
behind. I bad often read of such charming spots ; but 
thought they existed only in the author's brain, yet I 
must say that my eyes hero beheld a sight equal to 
any thing of which I ever read. This place is called 
Yevay, in Indiana. 

" Sept. 4:fh. We arrived at Jefiersonville this morn- 
ing at nine o'clock, and now the boats are preparing to 
go through the Eapids. The water is very lov/ and it 
is found necessary to take all the baggage out, and 
send it round by land. The distance is three miles 
and it takes only thirteen minutes to go by water. 
Lieut. G's boat with himself and wife, and Mr. and 


Mrs. A. lias gone over safely. We could go by land, 
inasmucli as my liusband being quarter-master, lias 
cbarge of the property. But we prefer to run all risks 
wMch are necessary for tlie rest of tlie officers and their 
wives. It is rather critical navigation here ; we are 
obliged to have two pilots, one at the bow and the other 
at the stern. 

" Sqyt. 4:tJi. We are safe over the Rapids ; it was 
frightful indeed. It seemed like being at sea in a 
storm, surrounded by breakers. The clouds were 
heavy, the wind was high, and a thunderstorm threat- 
ening us which burst upon us just as we got into port. 
We had no passengers in our boat except Capt P. and 
lady, and ourselves, the soldiers having gone by land. 
We stood, while passing the Rapids, with our eyes 
stretched to their utmost width, tliat we might see the 
whole in its perfection ; although hardly daring to take 
a long breath under the fear that our boat might strike 
the rocks. 

" We have laid below the falls these two days, and 
have been highly interested, viewing the petrifactions 
which are abundant and extremely curious. I have 
taken some specimens along with me that I may show 
them to my friends some future day should I ever have 
the good fortune to meet them. Indeed, I often wish 
that I could transport them here, that they might 
behold with me the wonderful works of nature. We 
are fast approaching the lowlands. From Pittsburgh 
thus far, there has been a constant succession of hills 
and vales ; but in a few hours a vast extent of level 
country will open to our view. We are come to the 


lowlands. The contrast is great ; not a mountain or 
hill now meets the eye. This is a pleasant way of 
traveling — every thing goes on as regular as if at 
housekeeping. Oar cook prepares his food well, and 
does the laundry work admirably. We drink the 
river water ; it tastes very well, but I do not like to 
think of the dirt that is thrown into it. Last nio-ht we 
had a recruit added to our number, in the shape of a 
bit of female mortality born in a tent on the banks of 
the Wabash, whicli river we are now ascending. Our 
progress is slow and very difficult, the current, which is 
against us, being very strong. We could go as far in 
ttvo days with the current in our favor, as we can in 
twelve with it setting against us. To add to our diffi- 
culties, the Eiver Wabash is full of snags, sawyers, and 
sand-bars, and the night air is so damp that if exposed 
to it we are in danger of fever and ague. And here I 
must record fn furious account of an attack of that 
disease which I heard from a western settler : ' You 
see, ma'am, ^ said he, * we had just got moved into our 
new house, when I was took down with that pesky 
ague. First came the chills, and I shook so hard that 
all the plasterin' fell off my walls ; next the fever riz, 
and made my room so hot that the lathes Jcetched afire, 
and I should have been burnt to death hadn't the 
sweatin^ turn come on so powerful as to drench the 
room with water, and quinch the flames.' 

^^Oct 1st., 1811. We arrived at Yincennes, Indiana 

Territory, and find all engaged for a campaign against 

the Indians. Our health is very good at present, 

although my dear Josiah has been burnt with gun- 



powder, wliicli might have destroyed life had not a 
kind Providence prevented. He was priming his gun, 
for the sake of shooting some wild fowl which are 
plenty on the river. The flint of the gun heing rather 
long, struck fire into the powder, in the pan hy coming 
in contact with it in shutting. The flask, which con- 
tained nearly half a pound of powder exploded, throw- 
ing the contents into his face, burning his eyebrows 
and lashes close. He shrieked, and putting his hands 
to his face took the skin entirely off. He could not see 
at all for a fortnight, and we sometimes feared that he 
never would see again. But a simple curd made of 
new milk and vinegar cured his eyes, and an applica- 
tion of oil and brandy alternately applied to his face 
healed it rapidly. 

'' Just after he was burnt, I took a violent cold by 
being out to view the comet, which had just made its 
appearance, and was quite sick in consequence. We 
were two pitiable objects, neither able to help the other 
and yet both needing assistance. When we arrived at 
Vincennes, no carriage could be procured, although I 
was hardly able to step, from debility, and my poor 
Josiah could not see at all ; so we both had to be led. 
The night was dark and rainy, but amid all these difii- 
culties we reached our lodgings at the only public 
house in the village. It proves to be a very good house, 
although overcrowded at present. But we shall be 
better accommodated when the officers from Ohio and 
Kentucky are gone. 

"Gov. Harrison called upon me to-day, previous to his 
departure for his Indian campaign. He had on a 
hunting-shirt (as they call it here,) of calico, trimmed 


witli frill o-e. In form it resembled a woman's short- 
gown ; only the ends were pointed instead of being 
square, and were tied in a hard knot to keep the gar- 
ment snug. On his head sat a round beaver, grace- 
fully ornamented with a white ostrich plume. He is 
tall and slender, with dark, piercing eyes, and most 
pleasing manners, and certainly exhibited not only 
politeness but benevolence, in thus noticing a poor sick 
stranger. It made an impression upon my mind w^hich 
will never be effaced. '^ 

Little did Mrs. Bacon think when thus describing the 
person and manners of Gov. Harrison that she spoke of 
the future President of these United States. And as 
little did she foresee that distant future when his kind 
remembrance of herself and husband should secure to 
them a position of usefulness and comfort in their de- 
clining years. But we will not anticipate. 

*' Oct. 5th. The troops have left Vincennes to-day. 
It was a sad sight to see them depart for war. A 
number of fine young men, volunteers from Ohio and 
Kentucky, left their studies in college to participate in 
this campaign. How many of them will return in 
safety to their homes and kindred none but God can 
tell ! My husband's sight continuing very Aveak, it 
was not thought prudent for him to go on with the 
troops. So the charge of Fort Knox is assigned him 
together with the care of the invalid soldiers. 

'^Oct. 8th. So here we are at Fort Knox, a stockade 
or military depot on the banks of the Wabash. I have 
not a single female associate, but I have my husband 


and so all is ivell. I venture alone sometimes outside 
tlie pickets, but although a soldier's wife, I lay no 
claim to heroism. And as I do not relish the idea of 
being scalped by our red brethren, I never venture far, 
but strive to content myself with those sources of 
enjoyment which are within my reach. I read, write, 
sew, converse, and think of absent friends whom it 
seems to me I never loved better than now. Josiah's 
eyes are getting strong fast, and he is impatient to 
rejoin his regiment. Indeed, he has besought the 
physician to pronounce him well enough, and has be- 
sides written to his colonel, requesting that he will order 
him to join him. 

" Oct 0th. My husband has received the order to 
rejoin his regiment. This is very much to his satisfac- 
tion, though not exactly to mine. Inglorious ease suits 
me better than it does him. Although we have been 
here only a week, we must pack up and be off to Viu- 
cennes again. 

'* Oct lOtJi. My dear husband is gone to the army, 
and I am boarding at Vincennes, with a Mrs. Jones. I 
have a very pleasant companion in Mrs. Witlock, the 
wife of an officer commanding another regiment. They 
are Virginians. I have had a return of the fever and 
ague, and Mrs. W. has nursed mo like a sister. The 
troops are eighty miles from this place, building a fort. 
The Indians in that neighborhood have as yet mani- 
fested no decided hostility towards them, but they are 
so deceitful and treacherous that no reliance can be 
placed upon their good will. The British furnish them 


with arms, ammunition, and rations. I hear that 
Colonel Miller has been very ill, and was obliged while 
sick to lie upon the ground ' in a tent. He is now 
better. I should like very much to ask him and the 
rest (who were so impatient to go) how they like their 
new situation. AVe have had no cold weather here yet, 
though it is now November. Indeed, I have not once 
sat by a fire during the past six months. We expect to 
stay here all winter, which is a disagreeable prospect to 
me, for I do not much fancy the place or the people. 
Dear New England, I love thee better than ever. Oh, 
shall I be so happy as to visit thy blest scenes once 
more, for blest indeed they are to me. 

'* This place (Vincennes) was settled about one hun- 
dred years since by the French. Judging by the 
present appearance of the place, its original inhabitants 
could not have had much enterprise or industry. The 
people are mostly Eoman Catholic, and in their habits 
not much superior to the Indians. The local situation 
of the place is very pleasant. It lies upon a clear 
stream of water which affords a variety of fish, besides 
the more important facilities of easy intercourse with 
the neighboring states and territories. The village is 
perfectly level with the exception of three mounds 
which are situated at the rear of the place. These are 
supposed to have been raised by the Indians some 
centuries since, but for what purpose we can only 
conjecture. They are quite ornamental, and the centre 
mound is easy of access, having a foot-path winding up 
on the back side. I rode to the top of it on horseback. 
Perhaps future generations may see this a flourishing 
place. There are now a few American families here, 


and tliose are emigrants cliiefly from Virginia and 
Kentucky. Slavery has been tolerated here, but I am 
happy to say that it is being removed. Land in this 
western country needs but little labor to prepare it for 
cultivation compared with ours at the east, but then 
produce does not command so good a price here." 

The writer hopes that our western neighbors will not 
feel scandalized by this meagre description of a place 
now so important and flourishing as Vincennes. If the 
reader will bear in mind that this account was penned 
more than forty years ago, they will not need to be 
told that it can in no respect (except that of location) 
accurately describe the present aspect of this thrifty 
and beautiful place. American emigration and Amer- 
ican enterprise have far outstripped even the eager 
anticipations of the most sanguine, and left the sober 
calculations of the prudent at a marvelous distance. 

But we must return to the journal of Mrs. B. which 
carries us back to an event that long after its accom- 
plishment lingered like a spell upon the nation's lips, 
and became the watchword of political combatants, and 
the talisman of their success. This was tlie battle of 

^^ Nov. SOtJi, 1811. Have been for some days very 
desirous to hear from our regiment, as my imagin- 
ation oft pictures my dear husband in the midst of 
danger and death. Oh, may he be mercifully spared. 
News — news from the army has just arrived! My 
precious Josiah, after being exposed to that most horrid 
of all battles — an Indian attack — has been preserved 
in safety. I cannot describe my feelings — words can- 


not do justice to tliem. I hope that this new, tliis great 
mercy, may be the means of raising our thouglits to 
God, our Creator and Preserver, who has watched over 
us ever since we had a being, and has done us good, 
and only good, continually. Oh, is it not strange that 
beings so dependent should so little realize their utter 
weakness. And stranger still, that creatures so unde- 
serving should live, daily recipients of the divine 
bounty, and feel no corresponding emotions of love and 

''I do not regret that Josiah was in this battle, for 1 
trust that the goodness of God in thus saving his life, 
has made impressions on both our hearts which will not 
easily be effaced. His duty as quarter-master was 
particularly arduous, of course, on a march. And 
although he was not attached to any particular com- 
pany, yet he was equally exposed to danger with those 
who were. While bridling his horse, one ball went 
through his hat, and another passed through the skirt of 
his coat, just hitting his boot and the hoofs of his horse. 
The army was encamped in a hollow square, on a rising 
piece of ground, the tents all facing outward, beyond 
which a guard was placed. Suspicious of the Indians, 
(although they were apparently friendly,) the troops 
had retired to their tents with their clothes on, and 
their weapons of war by their side. Thus they tried to 
sleep, but I am sure their slumbers could not have been 
very sweet or refreshing. The Indians attacked them 
a little before day which is their usual method. The 
first gun was heard, and the regulars were at their 
post in a moment. The enemy had their faces painted 
black, which is their usual custom in an attack. This 


our troops could only see bj tlie light afforded at the 
flashing of the guns, but accompanied by their tre- 
mendous war-whoop and the groans of the wounded, it 
rendered the scene terrific indeed. Yet amidst it all 
our troops never faltered, but answered the whoop with 
three hearty cheers. This dreadful battle lasted until 
daylight, when the Indians were completely routed and 
compelled to retire with great loss. 

" Lieutenant Peters relates an affecting incident of 
this battle. Among the militia from Kentucky was a 
Captain Spencer who had been in tivelve Indian cam- 
paigns. He was accompanied in this expedition by his 
son, an intelligent boy about twelve years of age. 
This brave little fellow had a gun adapted to his size, 
went on guard in his turn, and fought like a man. 
During the fight the darkness prevented any one from 
knowing w^ho had fallen. Each feared for his fellow. 
As soon as the fight was over, this poor boy sought his 
father, but alas ! he was not among the living — the 
hero of so many battles had at last met his fate. And 
a gentleman searching for his friends found this afflict- 
ed child weeping over the mangled body of his father. 
My heart aches for him, and for his distressed mother, 
who is left poor, with a large family of children to be 
supported by her own exertions. Alas ! many others 
are made widows and orphans by this dreadful fight. 
Oh, when will brother cease to lift his hand against his 
brother, and nations learn war no more ! 

** Oh, what a day was that when we at Vincennes 
heard of this battle of Tippecanoe. Receiving at first 
a mere report of the attack and victory without any 
official communication, and of course without any de- 


tails, each of us expected to hear sad news from our 
dear ones, and for hours our souls were harrowed to tlie 
quick, and agonized with suspense and dread. At 
length the express arrived with letters, yet his feelings 
were so excited, that he could not select and deliver 
them, hut poured them out indiscriminately into my 
lap. I was so overcome with apprehensions for my 
hushand that I could neither see nor read, and passed 
them into the hands of a lady who stood by me. Her 
hushand not being in the war, she was more calm and 
composed, and soon was enabled to find me my letter. 
When told that the address was in Josiah's own hand- 
writing, I could hardly believe it. My bodily weakness 
was great, being just recovering from the ague and 
fever, and this, aggravated by my intense anxiety 
respecting my dear husband, caused me to sink faint- 
ing upon the nearest chair. Eecovering soon, however, 

with Mrs. G kneeling on one side of me, Mrs. 

W on the other, and Mrs. J in front of me. 

I opened the letter and began to read it aloud. I had 
proceeded only to the third or fourth line, which con- 
tained the assurance of his safety, when we all burst 
into tears and thus relieved our aching hearts. Then 
I was able to finish the precious document, and found 
that my beloved husband (now more dear than ever) 
and those whom we most valued had escaped without 
serious injury. There were but two married men 
killed from our regiment, and they were soldiers. 
Only one married officer from the 4th was wounded. 
How often have I heard or read of Indian fights until 
my blood chilled in my veins, without thinking that I 
should ever be so personally interested in one. 


" Oar situation at Yincenncs was very mucli exposed 
while the troops were absent, for every body left that 
could handle a sword or carry a musket, and we women 

remained without even a guard. Mrs. W and 

myself had loaded pistols at our bedside, but I very 
much doubt whether we should have had presence of 
mind enough to use them, had we found it necessary. 
If the Indians had been aware of our situation, a few 
of them could have burnt the village, and massacred 
the inhabitants. But a kind Providence watched over 
us, and kept us from so dreadful a fate. 

" Another letter brino-s intellio-ence of the death of 
Capt. Bean who was tomahawked in a shocking man- 
ner. It is thought by the distance at which he was 
found from camp that the Indians attempted to take 
him prisoner, and that he chose death rather than submit 
to what he knew would be prolonged torture. He was 
a man of great personal beauty, and a most excellent 
officer, and commanded the love and esteem of his 
brother officers in an eminent degree. It was my 
husband's painful duty to see him interred. This he 
did, and disguised the grave that his poor body might 
not be disturbed, and his bones left to bleach upon the 
plain. The others who died during this murderous 
attack were all buried in one grave. But the Indians 
dug up the remains and left them a prey to the beasts 
of the forests, who by the way, are scarcely more 
savage than themselves. Our regiment (the 4th,) 
acquitted themselves with much honor in this engage- 
ment, and it is said materially contributed to secure 
the victory. But victories even are dearly bought with 


the loss of human life, tliat life which God gave, and 
which man may destroy but cannot restore. 

'* Some Indian chiefs have been to Gov. Harrison since 
the battle, and seem very desirous of peace. They are 
much exasperated with one whom they call their 
j^rophet, who, it seems, stimulated them to the fight 
with the assurance that they should be victorious. The 
result having proved him but man, their confidence in 
him is of course greatly shaken. We are keeping 
house with ]\Ir. and Mrs. Whitlock, and are very com- 
fortably and pleasantly situated, as much so as is pos- 
sible among entire strangers. We eat together, but 
have our separate parlors, with plenty of other room, 
and shall not therefore necessarily fatigue each other 
by being too much together. 

" A number of soldiers have died of their wounds 
since their return to Vincennes. Funerals are of daily 
occurrence. Yery solemn is the sight and sound, for 
the cofhns are followed to the grave by soldiers with 
arms reversed, marching to the tune of ' Roslyn 
Castle,' with muffled drums. Poor fellows ! they have 
paid the debt of nature, with no kind mother, sister, or 
wife to soothe their sorrows, or alleviate their distress, 
or w^ipe the death-sweat from their brow. Strangers 
have performed the last sad offices, and with them their 
dust shall rest until summoned by the last trump to 
stand before the Judge of the quick and dead.^' 

A letter from Mrs. Bacon to her mother is here 
inserted, as it seems to take up the thread of her nar- 
rative and brido:e over a chasm in her Journal. It is 
dated Vincennes, January 20th, 1812. 


*' I cannot describe to 3^011, my dear mother, how 
anxiously I look forward to the time when I may once 
more behold you. God only knows whether that will 
ever take place. May He spare your precious life and 
permit us yet to pass many happy hours together. It 
is now nine months since I left you. This is a long 
time for us to be separated : but the variety of scenes 
through which I have passed has caused it to fly 

'' There is an excellent preacher of the gospel here. 
We (with the friends who reside with us) attend upon 
his ministry, and are much pleased with him. He is 
a good man and has an interesting family. The Sab- 
bath here is very little observed, most of the people 
being wholly engrossed with this world. 

" We were very much alarmed a few nights since by 
a shock of an earthquake. We were roused from a 
sound sleep by the house shaking in an unusual 
manner. My first impression was that the Indians 
were assaulting the house, but we soon discovered 
our mistake. It was truly alarming. We have had 
several shocks since, some chimneys have been thrown 
down and ceilings cracked. This exhibition of Almighty 
power has excited feelings in my breast different from 
any which I ever before experienced. It impresses me 
with the uncertainties of life, the fallibility of all 
earthly enjoyment and the necessity of religion to give 
peace and happiness here and prepare us for a solemn 
hereafter. My dear sister, youth is the time to make 
that preparation for eternity. Piety is delightful in 
the young, and the poet says, 


* Religion never Avas designed 
To make our pleasures less.' 

" I felt a little A'cxed, dear motlicr, with those wives 
whom you mentioned in 3-oiir last letter. So iliey 
would prefer staying at home rather than suffer such 
inconveniences. Pray, why did they get married ? 
Never, no, never for a single instant, have / heen 
sorry that I accompanied my liushancl. On the con- 
trary, I feel grateful to the Author of all our blessings 
that I was permitted to come, to bo with him when 
sick, and to encourage and comfort him under the 
various ills which flesh is heir to. Some may say this 
is enthusiasm ; but really I think we have been mar- 
ried long enough to find out whether the attachment 
which has grown with our growth and strengthened 
with our strenojth is real or imaoinarv.^^ 

Surely no one can read this genuine outburst of 
devoted conjugal affection, without thoroughly admir- 
ing its author both as a woman and a wife. 

Her love though possessing all the tenderness and 
fervor of romance, was not of that sentimental kind 
which expands itself in fine words or endearing caresses. 
She was eminently i)ractical; and while some wives 
(though eloquently bewailing their husband's absence) 
preferred their pleasant parlors and the gayeties of 
fashionable life, to the discomforts of travel and hard- 
ship in their husband's company. She chose the 
latter, and (as she so feelingly wrote) never regretted 
the sacrifice. But we must return to her journal 


wliicli is continued under date of Vincennes, March 
lltli, 1812. 

'' We expect to leave tins place soon ; but where 
our destination is to be we know not. We can only 
liope it Vv'ill be towards home ; but of this there is, I 
suppose, little prospect. The boats are now being 
prepared to convey us hence. We still continue to feel 
repeated stj-okes of tlie earthquake. I often rise in the 
night to examine the weather, having learned by obser- 
vation that our most severe shocks have been experi- 
enced in still, lowering weather. 

" There Avas an Indian Council held here last week 
wliicli curiosity prompted me to attend. There were 
about seventy of these hideous creatures painted most 
grotesquely, and profusely ornamented. I have no 
doubt but to their admiring eyes they looked charm- 
ingly ; for ' there is no accounting for the difference in 
tastes.' One side of their faces was painted red and 
the other green. They were bedecked with nose and 
ear-jewels, and some of them wore silver bands upon 
their arms, and medals suspended from their necks. 
One still more fantastically arrayed bad a pair of cow's 
horns upon his bead. They are good, natural orators, 
but all they said had to be interpreted. After the 
Council, the calunaet of peace was smoked. This is a 
long pipe made especially for the purpose, and eacli 

one takes their turn in smoking it. Mrs. G 

smoked with them ; but I kept out of siglit in an 
adjoining room, as I had no inclination to taste it 
after its being so richly spiced with the breath of so 
many red and white brethren. Had I showed myself 
in the room where the Indians sat, I should have been 


compelled to smoke ' tlie pipe of peace/ or else liavc 
incurred their suspicion and liatred. So I acted upon 
the old adage, ' an ounce of prevention is better than 
a pound of cure.' 

" Before the Indians left our village they gave the 
inhabitants a specimen of their agility, by dancing 
before eacli house. Tlieir music was made by means 
of a heg with deer-skms drawn over it. This they 
strike rapidly, but most unskillfully, making a doleful 
humdrum noise. Their entire dress Avhile dancing, 
consists of a piece of cotton cloth around their waist. 
Their squaws and pappooses came with them. When 
the squaws are allowed to ride (^whicli by the way is 
very seldom,) they ride upon their liorses in the same 
manner as the men. Their little ones are lashed to a 
board and carried upon tlieir backs. When tliey stop, 
they suspend them to the bough of a tree. 

" We visited what is called a sugar-camp last week, 
and were much gratified with witnessing the process of 
sugar-making. This part of the country abounds in 
sugar-maples. Large trees are selected in which holes 
are bored and tubes inserted. These tubes convey the 
liquor which runs from the trees into a trough prepared 
for its reception. It is very clear, and pleasant to the 
taste. This is boiled in large kettles, or caldrons ; and 
when sufficiently done (which those who make it seem 
intuitively to know,) it is made into sugar by being 
constantly stirred while cooling. This article is most 
delicious, as all who have tasted it will testify. The 
labor of making it here is performed by blacks, super- 
intended closely hy their mistress. The lady whom we 
saw doing it in this instance, was a person of great 


rcspectabilitj and abundant wealth. I enjoyed my 
ride to tlie sn gar-camp verj much. It was a beautiful 
afternoon ; the air was mild and sweet, the weather 
delightful, and my pony upon whose back I rode, 
stepped along with a springy gait which seemed to say 
that he enjoyed it too. 

" This climate is so mild that I have put on no extra 
clothing this winter except when walking or riding. 
And then a large shawl was sufficient even in the 
coldest days. Only a very little snow has fallen, and 
this disappeared as soon as it touched the ground. 
Trees bloomed in February, and the gardens are now 
quite forward. Lettuce, radishes and asparagus we 
have already, and this without the assistance of hot- 

*^ March Slst. We have received orders to proceed 
at once to Detroit. I shall go the rounds, I dare say, 
ere I am permitted to see my dear mother and sisters. 
The troops are to go h?/ land, and not hi/ water, as was 
at first thought. The distance from A^incennes to 
Detroit by the route we are to take is six hundred 
miles, and we are to sleep on the ground in tents. It 
will take some days to accomplish this journey. We 
are to proceed to Xewport, Kentucky, from thence 
cross the river to Cincinnati, and go through Ohio to 
Michigan. We shall pass through some thriving vil- 
lages, but mostly through woods and prairies, where 
none but the hunter and the Indian have penetrated. 
The journey looks formidable in prospect. Mrs. 
F , Mrs. G and myself are to ride on horse- 
back. My husband being on the staff, will have the 


same privilege. So I shall bo spared the distress of 
seeing liim encounter the liardships wliich those who 
march must necessarily endure. I Iiavc been learning 
to ride on horseback, and like it much ; but how I shall 
succeed in riding tlirough swamps and fording rivers, 
experience alone will determine. 

"J% Uth, 1S12. Left Vincenncs to-day. Our 
friends here manifested much regret at our departure, 
which I fully reciprocated as far as leaving them was 
concerned. They have been kind companions, and we 
have passed our time most agreeably together. Their 
cordial and affectionate attentions have made an im- 
pression upon my heart which time or distance will 

never efface. Dear Mr. and Mrs. , may they 

never need a friend ! or if they do, may they find 
those wdio will repay them a hundred fold for their 
kindness to us. 

" Six o^elocJCf P. 31. I have just seated myself with 
the other ladies upon the trunk of a tree. This makes 
a pretty good sofa considering the time and place. I 
have been much amused wdth seeing the soldiers pitch 
their tents, wdiich was performed with much alacrity 
and order. After this, in most primitive styla, -we took 
our tea, or rather ate our suppers, (which we did with a 
good appetite,) the ground serving us for table and 

"lo^A, Ijvenivg. We went fifteen miles to-day, the 
roads being very bad and our progress of course slow. 
The weather, however, is beautiful, and we are having 
fine moonlight nio-hts. AVe like travelins: on horse- 


back thus far. I slept finely on the ground last niglit 
for the first time in my life. A hear-sJdn was our bed- 
stead, and a buffalo robe our bed. The Colonel very 
gravely begs us not to fall into the cellar. 

'' IQth. F 31. We ladies went on ahead of the 
troops to-day with some soldiers to guard us ; and 
when a convenient place ofi'ered, we alighted and took 
' a siesta' which refreshed us exceedingly. A fire was 
made to keep the musquitoes off who are very annoying 
in these parts. We have now arrived at a log house, 
where I am seated upon a bed for want of chairs. 
The fire-place is large enough for a room, the chimney 
is built of logs and mud ; and I should think that 
when it rains the house would be flooded. I am told 
that this is one of the best houses between Vincennes 
and Louisville. 

" 17iJi, A. 31. It rained hard all last night, yet I 
never slept better in my life. We are now ready to 
start. Dear mother and sisters ! how I wish you 
could see us now, you would have a hearty laugh at the 
comical fi2:ure which we exhibit. I have a laro-e bao- 
hanging to the pommel of my saddle, containing 
necessaries. Among other things, I have a Bible and 
Homer's Iliad (translated) for the mind, while for the 
stomach, provision is made in the form of a huge 
sponge cake presented by a friend on the morning of 
our departure. I enjoy myself highly; and one great 
source of my pleasure is the anticipation of yours, if I 
should ever be permitted to relate in person tlie many 
curious and interesting circumstances which occur. 


*♦ 18^7?, A. 31. The General is beating, so I must put 
away my pen that our house may be packed for marching. 

" P. 31. We have arrived at our resting-place for the 
night. The raiu has poured from tlie clouds all day. 
We became very wet, so we stopped in the woods and 
had a large fire made for drying ns. There is no scarcity 
of wood here, and we have splendid fires. The men 
gathered heaps of dry sticks and placed them against a 
large green tree, the branches of which served as a shelter 
from the rain while we dried ourselves. It was rather 
uncomfortable drying our wet garments upon us in this 
manner, but we made the best of it. Afterwards we 
were provided with umbrellas and went on very well. 
The fatigue of the day has given me a fine appetite. 
Our supper is ready, and Josiah is begging me to eat, 
so good-night, dear Journal, and dearer absent friends. 

'' Idtli, A. 31. We have a bright sun this morning, 
and are going on in fine health and spirits. We liave 
passed through some beautiful forests, where the ground 
seemed enamelled witli flowers. My feelings to-day 
have been much tried by seeing the soldiers' wives 
trudging along on foot, almost knee deep in mud, and 
some of them with a child in tlieir arms. Only four or 
five wagons are allowed to carry the baggage, and of 
course the poor women must sufi*er. I should think it 
would kill them. We passed two houses to-day which 
were deserted by the inhabitants through fear of the 
Indians. We understand that a camp of them is near 
us on a hunting excursion. Our friends express the 
fear that we may suffer for want of good food. Surely 
they might spare such concern for me if they would 


only remember tliat / have the very best Bacon in the 
world ! Mother, you would laugh to see our cook roast 
chickens. He takes a green stick, sharpened at the 
ends, and placing the fowl upon one end sticks the other 
in the ground before a good fire, and biddy roasts to a 
charm. Or, if a joint of meat is to be cooked, two 
sticks are put in the ground with their tops shaped like 
a fork, so that another stick can rest across them. 
From the last stick the meat is suspended in the centre 
and cooks very well indeed. We have a pack-horse who 
carries a pair of mess-boxes for our accommodation. 
These boxes are made with separate apartments, which 
contain our cups, plates, &c. Our tea is carried in can- 
nisters ; our table is the hind-board of a wagon set on a 
portable cricket shutting up like a cot bedstead. Our 
candlestick is a bayonet with the point in the ground, 
the part in which the gun fits serving admirably for a 
socket to put the candle in. 

^^ P. M. To-night vre have encamped near a house. 
The landlady is very patriotic and gave the soldiers a 
generous supply of milk. 

" 22c?. It has been very rainy for two or three days 
past. One of the soldiers was taken suddenly ill with 
cholera-morbus, and breathed his last sio-h in a bao^2:ao:e 
wagon. He was buried in the woods, in a rude bark 
coffin — the only one of which the times would admit. 

''23c?. Every step brings us toivard home, yet I 
fancy it will be long ere we shall see it. Dear friends, 
I think if I could see you once more I could sit and look 
at you for a month at least. The weather is still dull 


and Avct, and tlio ground in a bad condition to lie on. 
When we can get straw we put some under our bear- 
skin to sleep on, and when the straw is not to be had 
we substitute tlie leaves of trees and cover them with 
bark. This also makes an excellent carpet for our 
tents, and with the addition of a fire at the door to keep 
off the musquitoes renders us very comfortable. Wc 
are in good health, eat heartily and sleep sound. 

•' 27th. I have omitted writing for several days, hav- 
ing nothing pleasing to relate. Our men get sick ; two 
were buried this morning. I believe I have never 
mentioned my pony particularly, which is quite ungrate- 
ful in me. She is a character, I am sure, being not 
only clever and amiable, but stepping to the sound of 
the drum like any regular. And besides, she is not 
afraid of the guns, minding the firing no more than I 
should tlie singing of the birds. I sit quietly on her 
back while the men discharge their pieces. 

" 2^th. We have arrived at Louisville, Kentucky. 
It is a handsomo and flourishing town situated on the 
Ohio. The citizens gave our officers a splendid dinner 
in honor of the battle of Tippecanoe, where our regi- 
ment was associated with Kentuckians. We have had 
a delightful time here. Kentucky is a perfect garden ; 
but then they tolerate slavery \\crQ, ^\\\\(A\ I feel to be a 
great evil 

" 3£iy 20th. We liad green peas and strawberries 
to-day, wliicli were very acceptable. As we pass through 
Kentucky great respect is paid to our regiment. It is 


amusing to see what a parade they make over us. 
One old gentleman asked one of the officers ' if those 

young women, (meaning Mrs. F and myself,) came 

all the way from Vincennes ?' He was told that we 
did, and that one of us had been the whole campaign ! 
This answer filled him with wonder and admiration. 
We have passed through Frankfort, another flourishing 
town in Kentucky. The inhabitants treated us with 
every possible attention, giving a dinner both to the 
officers and soldiers. And when we vrere leaving the 
town a salute was fired, accompanied with three cheers. 

" Neivport, KeMuclnj, June 7th. "\Ye have once more 
arrived at this place with feelings far different from 
those with which we left here last summer. Then we 
were going farther from dear New England ; now we are 
going towards it, which is a great satisfaction, even if 
we do not very soon reach it. Oh, there is nothing 
thrills the heart of the wanderer like thought of home 
and friends. 

''June lOtJi. We crossed the Ohio, at Cincinnati, at 
two o'clock this afternoon. The boats which were sent 
to convey the troops across the river were ornamented 
with the American and regimental colors. Two com- 
panies of Artillery waited on the bank to recciv^e us. 
They fired a salute, and then escorted us througli an 
arch erected for the occasion, on which was inscribed, 
* To the Heroes of Tippecanoe.' When the troops 
reached the encamping ground a handsome collation 
awaited them, which had been prepared by the hospi- 
tality of tlie people of this delightful town. The 


officers and tlicir ladies liad been previously invited to 

General G 's, where we were entertained with an 

elegant and liberal hospitality. 

'' A few evenings since we were encamped at a place 
called Dry Ridge, in Franklin county, near a public 
house. A puppet show had drawn together all the 
young people for twenty miles round. After they had 
examined the show sufficiently, the day not being nearly 
spent, they betook themselves to dancing. Some of us 
at the camp hearing of the fun went up to see them. 
An amusing sight truly ! The day was intensely warm 
and yet they danced with all their might. They were 
dressed in their best of course : skirts very short, thick 
leather shoes with sharp toes. The lads disencumbered 
themselves of their coats and vests, and performed 
feats of activity at once surprising and ludicrous, while 
the perspiration flowed copiously down their heated faces. 

''June 12th. We have at last reached Urbana, 
where we found General Hull with fifteen hundred 
militia waiting for our regiment. We were received 
with great respect some distance from the town, and 
escorted into Urbana throuo-h an arch ornamented with 
oak branches and laurel from the forest. In the centre 
of this arch the American eagle spread her broad 
pinions, while on one side of it was inscribed ' Tippe- 
canoe,^ and on the other ' Glory.' We take up the line 
of march tomorrow for Detroit. A party precedes us 
to cut roads and make them passable. General Hull 
and Governor Meigs, of Ohio, called on the ladies of 
the regiment immediately on our arrival. These 
gentlemen are both very courtly in their manners, par- 


ticularlj General Hull, who is Commander-in-Chief to 
the troops. After three or four days of incessant rain, 
accompanied often with heavy thunder and lightning, 
the clouds have dispersed, and the bright sun again 
greets us with his cheering rays Oh, how cheering 
after so long an absence and such a situation as ours ! 
We have been coming through dreadful roads, part of 
the way being entire swamps, and all of us being 
repeatedly wet through. 

" Our tent was one wliicli was used at Tippecanoe, 
and many a shot lias told its tale in its canvass. The 
holes admit the air freely, and, (when it rains,) the 
water also. At niglit we sleep with an open umbrella 
over us to keep the rain from disturbing our repose. 
We shall stop here a day or two to prepare cartridges. 
The troops are expecting an attack from the Indians ere 
we reach Detroit. God only knows what is before us. 
Let us hope that such a calamity may be averted ; it 
would be dreadful with such a number of women and 
children along. 

" We understand that a number of Indians arc at 
Fort Maiden. The Enolish have been holdino- n coun- 
cil with them, and no doubt have done every thing on 
their part to instigate them to hostilities. Breast- 
works are made every night around our encampment, 
by felling trees and heaping tliem on each other. It 
seems as if the very ground trembles as the mighty 
oak, elm and maple fall. Both the officers and men 
sleep with their clothes on, and their implements of 
war by their side. T wonder how my dear sisters would 
feel to know I was in such a situation. Doubtless when 
they read this they will shudder at the idea of a female 


being so exposed. But it is an acknowledged fact that 
people in perilous situations do not so deeply realize 
their danger at the time as afterward. I feel quite 
composed and those around me seem so too, but I hope 
our courage will not be put to tlie test. 

" June l^tJi. We have arrived sixty-tliree miles north 
of Dayton, and five beyond the Indian boundary. 
Amid the noise and bustle of a camp, the frequent firing 
of guns and rattling of drums, my heart, (true as the 
needle to the magnet,) turns to the dear circle of loved 
ones at home. More quickly than the bird of swiftest 
wing, my thoughts fly to mother, sisters and friends ; 
and as imagination depicts yon in many a well re- 
membered scene, I stretch my arms with the earnest 
longing to be once more in your midst. God speed the 
happy day when these fond fancies shall become living 
realities, and these warm desires be swallowed up in 
their blissful fulfillment. 

" We are encamped on a spot of ground to-day 
where once stood an Indian village. Very little re- 
mains to show that human beino;s once inhabited this 
place. Oh, how easily may every vestige of man's 
presence be blotted out, so that the places that once 
knew him shall know him no more forever. Not so 
with the works of an Almighty hand. ' He speaks and 
it is done ; he commands and it stands fast.^ The 
ground here is covered with strawberry vines full of 
their luscious burden, and adorned with wild roses and 
other flowers. Even in one corner of our tent is a very 
sw^eet wild rose smiling upon us in its beauty, all un- 
conscious of the pleasure it bestows on the w^anderer 


wlio have taken up tlicir abode liere for the niglit. 
Could my dear Eastern friends travel with me through 
these American wilds, and sec the beauty which God 
has lavished where there are none to admii-e, much less 
to praise, they would I am sure share in my wonder and 
astonishment, as well as in my enjoyment. These 
western militia are very different from regular troops. 
They seem to have very little idea of order and discipline, 
and think they may do, (as did Israel of old,) every 
man what is right in his own eyes. Some of them have 
been guilt}" of great insubordination. One man for 
mutinous conduct has been tried, and sentenced to have 
his head shaved, the word ' Tory ' written on his back, 
and to be drummed out of camp to the tune of the 
' Ilogue's March.' 1 shall never forget the poor fellow^'s 
look when he heard his sentence. I thought he would 
have fainted. He fell on his knees and besought for 
pardon, and if tJiis ivere impossible, he begged they ivould 
shoot him. He could bear death better than disgrace. 
He said that he had a wife and child who loved him, 
and whom he had left as a volunteer to serve his coun- 
try. Kot understanding military law, he had thought- 
lessly committed this fault. I looked at the General, 
and my throbbing heart and streaming eyes plead for 
the culprit, and I longed to whisper * be merciful as our 
Father in Heaven is merciful.' The poor fellow was 
then led through the camp, and while his sentence was 
being read to the army, the barber stood by ready to 
shave him. But the General interposed and pardoned 
him, and thus not only made the poor soldier happy, but 
conferred joy upon all who witnessed his clemency. 
Had they proceeded to execute the sentence, the ladies 


of tlio army with one accord would have plead on his 
hehalf. Oh, when I saw him on his knees imploring 
pardon, my mind reverted to his young wife, and her 
distress and anguish so impressed my imagination that 
I was well nigh overcome. It was almost too much for 
me. I do not like to witness such scenes, hut I trust 
should they he repeated they will not harden my heart. 
I do not know what I should more deplore than to have 
my sensibilities rendered callous to scenes of suffering." 

None who knew Mrs. Bacon in after life will believe 
that she lost any of her quick and tender sympathy 
with distress and sorrow. Her eyes were suffused with 
tears at every tale of woe, and the care with which she 
sought to sJiield the feelings as well as to relieve the ne- 
cessities of the poor and suflPering, was worthy of all 
praise. But the narrative continues : 

" We have been now six weeks on our journey, during 
four of which the weather has been rainy and un- 
pleasant. I find it occasionally quite difficult to guide 
my horse propeily. The new roads which the advance 
party cut for us are quite narrow, so that it is some- 
times impossible to prevent the large hushes and the 
boughs of small trees from coming in contact with our 
faces. When it rains I am obliged to hold my bridle 
and umbrella with one hand, while with the other I 
prevent the bushes and branches from scratching out 
my eyes. Not long since I was riding rather carelessly 
and musing the while, when I felt a sudden jerk and 
was almost thrown from my horse. Had not the kind 
creature stopped instantly I know not but I should, 
(like the rebellious son of David,) have been left 
hamrino; to a tree. 


" Blanchard^s Creek, Fort Findley. We are resting 
here for a few hours. Block houses are erected every 
twenty miles to keep the road open for provisions to 
pass from Ohio to Detroit. As we have no vessels to 
keep open our communication by the lake, should there 
be a war with England, as is now apprehended, this 
land route will be of vital importance. It is very 
tedious traveling through roads that are only 
opened as you proceed. Sometimes the horses are in 
danger of miring, sometimes there is a probability of 
breaking their legs in crossing the rude bridges which 
are so hastily constructed ; and often in fording the 
rivers the current is so strong as to render it extremely 
difficult to gain the opposite shore. Many have a fine 
bath ere they reach terra firma. But as yet I have 
been exempt from such a disaster, which I feel would 
require all my philosophy to bear with equanimity. 
Yet it frequently takes all my strength and prowess to 
maintain my equilibrium, as the streams are sometimes 
so deep that I am obliged to put my feet upon the 
horse's neck to keep them out of water. 

*' This moment a man has brouo-ht us a beautiful fish 
which he has just caught in the creek near by. This 
will give us an excellent supper, accompanied by the 
nice warm cakes which our cook was about to prepare. 
We could have a dish of garlics in addition if we chose, 
as the ground where we are encamped is full of them. 
My tent has all the odors of a French cook-shop, not 
quite so agreeable as the strawberries and roses which 
so lately regaled us. 

" June 2Gtli. An express has just reached us from 


Wasliington to hasten the troops to Detroit. War with 
England is soon to be declared. Oh, with what different 
feelings shall we keep the approaching 4th of July 
from any ever experienced by us. Our eastern friends 
will not suffer in this war like those upon the frontier, 
as the latter will be exposed to the merciless tomahawk. 
This evening we encamped on a delightful spot of 
ground upon the banks of the Maumee river which 
empties into Lake Erie, about a mile from the place 
where General Wayne defeated the Indians in 1794. 
We have had dreadful roads to-day and several of our 
horses gave out from fatigue. Two of them dropped 
dead upon the road, and in consequence one of our 
wagons was abandoned and left in the mud. 

" 29/A. To-day we have passed through several 
beautiful prairies covered with fruit and wild flowers. 
The weather has been delightful. 

" June oOtJi. Wc pass the Indian boundary to the 
Michigan Territory to-dpty. We are now within seventy 
miles from Detroit, which we could reach in two days 
if we dared to leave the army. The troops are in fine 

" Juli/ 1st, 1812. Took up the line of march to-day, 
and passed through a small village called Miami, or 
Maumee. This is situated in a fine prairie, three or 
four miles in leno;th. We ladies rode on ahead to the 
edge of the woods which terminated the prairie, and 
turning our horses, had a fine view of the troops as 
they approached us. This evening we have pitched our 


tents at the foot of the rapids. In crossing the river, 
the water got into the mess boxes and wet our sugar. 
I must here record an incident which occurred a few 
evenings since, which I have not mentioned in its place. 
As I was sitting at the door of our tent, enjoying the 
beautiful twilight and musing upon absent friends, I 
heard the report of a gun and felt the wind of some- 
thing passing close to my ear. Presently an ofRcer 
came up with a ramrod in his hand, which he said had 
just fallen upon his tea-table, where he was taking 
supper with his family outside of his tent. This was 
what I felt as it whizzed past my ear. But what 
an escape ! Had it gone one inch nearer, it would 
have penetrated my head, and inevitable death would 
have been the consequence. This happened through 
the carelessness of a militia man, who in discharging 
his gun, forgot to elevate it, or to remove the ramrod. 
Thus I am constantly preserved through dangers seen 
and unseen, and have a renewed call to adore the God 
of Providence. 

" Accompanied by my liusband, I have to-day visited 
an old fort that formerly belonged to the British. It 
was erected, I believe, by Gov. Sincoe, the first Gover- 
nor of Upper Canada, in the year 1794, a few months 
previous to the defeat of the Indians, by General 
Wayne. It must have been a very good fort for that 
day, I sliould jndge. We rode into it on horseback. 

"From this place (near the rapids) it was now 
thouglit best to send the baggage, together with the 
sick and feeble, hj ivaicr to Detroit, while the army 
performed the remainder of the journey by land. A 
small unarmed vessel had been sent from Detroit for 


this purpose, and in tins Mrs. G , Mrs. F , and 

myself embarked. Being much fatigued with riding 
six hundred miles on horseback, and sleeping fifty 
nights upon the ground, we thought the change would 
be pleasant. So we left the army in fine spirits, antici- 
pating the pleasure which we should enjoy in resting, 
and expecting to reach Detroit in a few hours. But 
when within eighteen miles of Detroit, and opposite 
Maiden, in Canada, (where was a British fort and 
military depot,) we saw a large boat coming towards us 
with all possible speed. "When near enough to hail us, 
they ordered our captain to lower his sails. He, not 
knowing any reason for such a proceeding had half a 
mind to continue on his course, but a second and wiser 
thought altered his intentions. The fact was we were 
now so near the guns of the fort that they could have 
blown us out of water. And as if to hasten the cap- 
tain in his submission to circumstances, two guns were 
fired at us from the boat. As the shot whistled about 
our ears, it caused any thing but an agreeable sensa- 
tion. Excepting the ramrod, I had never come so 
nearly in contact with murderous weapons before. But 
now our sails were of course lowered, and the English 
captain with his men came on board and took possess- 
ion of our vessel as a prize. Lieut. Gooding inquired 
the meaning of such conduct, and was told that war was 
declared between England and America, and that the 
Americans had already taken two British vessels upon 
the seas. 

"We could hardly credit the statement, but it was 
indeed true. General Hull had received the intelli- 
gence just after we started, and had sent a messenger 


to stop US, but it was too late. Wc were then "beyond 
Lis reach. The British were delighted with their prize, 
as our vessel contained nearly all the hospital stores, 

as well as the ojficer's baggage. Mrs. G and Mrs. 

r flew into the cabin as soon as the first shot was 

heard, but a love of ncvelfi/, sjnced with curiosity over- 
came my fears, and I remained on deck to see what was 
next to come. Our captor was an English captain, by 
the name of Rulet, and a very gentlemanly young 
man. Ho took the helm, and our vessel was in a very 
short time anchored at Maiden, and we prisoners to 
his majesty, George III. This was an honor I had 
little anticipated, and one moreover, that I could very 
willingly have dispensed with. However, there was 
nothing but to make the best of it. The English quar- 
ter-master soon came on board. Lieutenant Gooding 
introduced the ladies to him, observing that we were all 
officers' wives. He assured us that we should be treated 
as such, and invited us to his own quarters until we 
could procure accommodations at the public house. So 
Lieut. G and his wife, with Mrs. E and my- 
self, went home with the quarter-master. We were in- 
troduced to his wife, whom we thought a very pleasant 
lady, and were handsomely treated to cake and refresh- 
ments, so that for a few moments we almost forgot our 
real situation. 

" A number of Indians were at Maiden, several of 
wliom were engaged in the battle of Tippecanoe. 
Hearing that it was some of the 4th regiment vrho were 
taken prisoners, they followed us through the streets to 
the public house, scowling upon us with faces truly 
terrific. After dinner several British officers called 


upon US. Finding them disposed to bj civil and 
friendly, I took courage to request tliem to alloio Mrs. 

F and myself to proceed next day to Detroit. They 

very courteously granted my request, pleasantly add- 
ing, ' "We do not make war upon the ladies.' Lieut. 
Gooding could not he paroled, and of course his wife 
chose to stay with him. That night we slept on hoard 
a prison-sJdp, hut as we were the first prisoners who 
had been placed there, it was clean and comparatively 
comfortable. We slept very well, considering the nov- 
elty of our position. I awoke early in the morning, 
having a strong desire to set my feet on republican 
groimd ere our national anniversary arrived. Tomor- 
row would be the 4:th of July ! Agreeable to his 
promise, the quarter-master procured us a pass from 
the commanding officer, and provided a carriage and 

driver to take Mrs. F and myself to Detroit. A 

cart was also engaged to carry our baggage. At my 
earnest request, he also consented that two young boys 
(sons of militia officers) and a soldier's wife, with her 
young infant should accompany us. So we departed, 

Mrs. F and myself in an open chaise, with a New 

England man to drive, while in the rear was the cart, 
guided by a Canadian, with the woman, children, and 
baggage. Of the latter, most fortunately, I was per- 
mitted to make my own selection, so (of course) I 
secured my husband's as well as my own. On his 
account I considered myself lucky to have been of the 
party. The weather was fine, and we rode along quite 
happy in the prospect of soon seeing our husbands. 
Our road lay. upon the bank of the river Detroit. This 
river is wide and deep enough for vessels of any di- 


mcnsions to sail upon. The man who drove us lived 
about lialf way between Maiden and Detroit. He 
stopped at his own house to rest the horses a short time, 
wliile I improved the opportunity, with his permission, to 
reconnoitre the garden. I found some nice fruit which 
was quite refreshing. After which we resumed our 
seats in the chaise, and soon arrived at the ferry oppo- 
site Detroit, having rode eighteen miles. Here a boat 
was procured for us by the gentleman to whom we 
presented our passport, and he kindly volunteered his 
services to wait on us across the river. These we 
thankfully accepted, and in a short time were seated in 
the boat on our way to Detroit. The gentleman took 
the helm in one hand and his cane with my pocket- 
handkerchief tied to it in the other, as a flag of truce. 
Of course this was the only way that peaceable people 
could approach an enemy's shore in such troublous 
times. Our boat was a long canoe, made out of the 
trunk of a tree, and having lain out of water and 
exposed to the sun, it had begun to crack. Of course 
it leaked so badly in consequence that we could not 
keep our feet dry, and were actively engaged all the 
way across in bailing out the water. As we approached 
our American shore, we saw a number of men on horse- 
back riding rapidly down, quite to the edge of the 
water. AYhen we came near enough to hear them, they 
ordered us not to advance any nearer, and enforced 
their order by pointing large pistols directly at us. 
This M-as a cold welcome to returning prisoners. But 
all communication between Detroit and Canada had 
been prohibited on account of the declaration of war, 
and even flags of truce were not allowed. But I 


tliouglit that a canoe full of ivomcn and cldldren, 
cari'} iiig a white flag was a small tiling to disturb the 
valor oi:* my countrymen. On the wharf, a guard of 
regulars, with thtir commanding officer. Availed to 
receive us. The latter now hailed us and inquired v, ho 
we were. I replied (with some spirit) ' that we were 
officers' wives of the 4th regiment,' and we were imme- 
diately permitted to land. The gentleman who had 
escorted us in the boat vrith such disinterested polite- 
ness I had promised should return without detention or 
molestation. This I communiv-atcd to our commandino: 
officer and added my hope that it might be fulfdled 
without delay. He assured me that it should, and I 
soon had the satisfaction of knowing that no harm had 
come to the gentleman for liis kindness to us females 
and strangers. Captain H., (the commanding officer 
just alluded to,) then waited upon us to General H's 
quarters, where we were most cordially received by his 
daughter-in-law, the wife of Captain H. who was keep- 
ing house for her father. The rest of the family, ex- 
cepting this only son, were in Kew England. Witli 
this lady I tarried while in Detroit, and received all the 
attention and kindness which a refined mind and. gen- 
erous heart could bestow. She had two dear little girls, 
and the care which they required, together with their 
pretty and endearing ways helped to relieve mucli of 
the tediousness of our unpleasant situation. For from 
this time the continual din of war caused us sleepless 
nights and anxious days. Xo Sabbath and no sanctu- 
ary privileges blest us v\ith their return. All days 
were alike employed in preparation for brother to shed 
his brother's blood. A war with Enadand seems most 


unnatural — 'tis like a family taking up arms against 
its own. But if we arc forced to do it our cause is just. 
And I trust that the same kind Providence who fought 
for us in the llevolution will still succor and protect 
this highly favored people. I know that our friends 
at the east will be very anxious on our behalf. 

''July Itli. The army has just arrived in good 
health and spirits. I had a delightful ride with my 
liusband on the bank of the river above Detroit. This 
is a beautiful part of the country. There are good 
gardens in the village, and fine farms in the vicinity. 

'^ July V2tli. Geuoral H. crossed with his troops to 
Sandwich, opposite Detroit, and took peaceable possess- 
ion. The inhabitants either quitted the place or 
stopped under American jurisdiction. 

" August TtJi. Some parties of our troops have had 
several skirmishes with the British and Indians. An 
English officer, but dressed and painted like the Indians, 
led them on to battle. I am surprised that a ivhite 
man of any refinement could do such a thing. After 
one of the fights, the English suffered the Indians to 
take the scalp of a Yankee soldier, and carry it twelve 
miles for the purpose of showing it to Lieutenant 

G . He was still where we left him with his wife 

confined on board the prison-ship at Maiden. This 
exhibition of Indian cruelty was made to him in the 
most insulting manner. This license so stimulated the 
Indians, that it was found necessary to move the prison- 
ship out some distance in the stream to prevent them 


from firing into lier. They did fire once, "but happily 
injured no one. Poor Mrs. G must he very un- 
pleasantly situated — so closely confined, no female com- 
panion to speak to, and in constant terror. A detach- 
ment of troops have gone to Brownstown and my hus- 
band among them. We have heard that an engage- 
ment has commenced between them and the Enjxlish. 
The thought is almost too much to hear that my be- 
loved husband may be already among the slain. 

*' Qtli. We have just heard that our troops have 
been victorious, and that no oflftcer was killed, and only 
one wounded. Colonel Miller commanded. My dear 
Josiah has returned in safety. 

'^August 12th. Our troops have vacated Sandvnch, 
and returned to Detroit. Since then the enemy have 
been very busy building, as we suppose, a battery upon 
the opposite shore. The ends project beyond a large 
dwelling which conceals them while they work. At 
night we can hear them throw their cannon-balls, from 
a boat on to the lane 

^^ August lotli. One of our physicians. Dr. Foster, is 
very dangerously sick. He is a particular friend of 
ours, a young man of unblemished morals, and possess- 
ing a superior mind, highly cultivated. I have just 
received a message from him requesting an interview 
with all possible dispatch. I hastened to his room and 
found him apparently near his end. ' Mrs. Bacon,' 
said he, ' I have sent for you to converse with me about 
dying. My male friends are not willing to talk with 


me on tins subject. But I believe you to be a rational 
woman, and trust you Avill not object to hear me.' I 
assured bim tbat it would give me great pleasure, if I 
could do any thing to comfort him. He then told me 
of his conviction that death was near at hand. His 
disease, he said, was hereditary ; his mother and several 
members of their family had been taken away with it. 
He thought he should die ere tomorrow's sun should 
sink in the west, as there was an abscess nearly formed, 
which, in breaking, must inevitably terminate his life. 
He expressed his thankfulness that his precious mother, 
whom he had greatly loved, had preceded him, and was 
not left to mourn his departure. I was astonished at 
his calmness, for I knew that he was not a follower of 
the meek and lowly Jesus. But I soon found that he 
w^as perfectly confident of his acceptance with God upon 
the score of his oivn merits. He acknowledged no 
Saviour, and felt that he needed none — his own righte- 
ousness was all-sufficient. I knew, I felt that he was 
altogether wrong, that he was building on the sand, 
but I knew not what to do or say. I was so struck 
with surprise at finding him so near his end, and so 
filled with horror at the thought of his unpreparedness 
that I was overwhelmed, and almost lost the power of 
utterance. I felt, too, my own utter incompetency to 
direct him aright, and I left him without one endeavor 
to convince him of his error. I fear I was greatly 
culpable. My feelings on leaving him were indescriba- 
bly painful, inasmuch as after his explanation of the 
character and progress of his disease I could not indulge 
the hope that he would survive many hours. His 
impressions and my forebodings were too true, for alas, 


he died tlie next day at noon. He was interred among 
strangers, witli military honors, much heloved and 
respected by surviving friends.'^ 

Often in after years, did Mrs. Bacon recur to this 
scene, and never without feelings of grief and contri- 
tion. When relating it in the hearing of the writer, 
during the last year of her own life, she said, *' I almost 
feel as if the blood of that man's soul will be found in 
my skirts. I knew that he was building upon a sandy 
foundation, and I ought to have warned him of his 
danger, and exhorted him to flee to the only refuge. 
But the very imminency of his peril stupefied me, and 
a bitter conviction of my own inconsistency in neglect- 
in 2: that Saviour whom I now saw so essential to the 
salvation of a dying sinner, tied my tongue. I left 
him, feeling that his harvest was past, his summer 
ended, and he not saved. But I do not think I ever 
fors-ot the lesson which I there learned. It followed 
me through many an after scene, often whispering in 
my ear, ' Sinner, come !^ And I do not think the 
impression of that unblest death ever wholly left me 
until I was brought to .make that Saviour mine, who 
alone can safely guide through ' the dark valley.' 
Now I never see the sick and dying without making 
earnest efforts to lead them (if they are not Christians) 
to place their feet upon the rock — Christ Jesus. But 
oh, that haunting thought, I cannot undo the past. I 
can only pray. Lord, forgive." All this was said with 
the deepest emotion, her eyes overflowing with tears of 
regret and sorrow. But we will resume the journal of 
Mrs. B. whose next date is that of " Auo-ust 14th." 


" While a prisoner among the English, at Maiden, I 
was much mortified to hear one of their officers say, 
' The New England States will not take up arms 
against his majesty. For you have federal governors, 
and nothing would delight them more than disunion.' 
He had imbibed this idea by reading so many strong 
party pieces in our eastern newspapers. Though I felt 
that his conclusions were wrong, yet I was both sorry 
and ashamed that the rancor of political and party 
differences should give any color to such an assertion. 
I know, however, that those vile productions are not the 
sentiments of the majority of the people. Disunion 
cannot be seriously entertained by those who worked 
first and longest to achieve our independence. : Oh, may 
the bright flame of patriotism, which glowed in the 
breasts of our Washington and his compatriot's fire the 
hearts of their descendants. And whilQ one drop of 
blood runs in the veins of Americans, may they.remem- 
ber the dying injunction of the father of his country, 
that they should ' unitedli/ maintain that independence 
which (under heaven) their fathers so gloridudy oh" 

" August 15th. A summons has been sent to-day, 
from General Brock (the British commander in Canada,) 
to General Hull, demanding the surrender of Detroit 
and the army to the English ! This our general has 
not seen fit to comply with. Every preparation is now 
making for a bombardment. The British soldiers are 
very busy in pulling down the large house which con- 
ceals the battery which they have been so industriously 
constructing. If I were not 'so terrified at the idea of 


a siege, I could laugli to sec tlicir Imrrj. Never did a 
building come down faster in a raging fire than in the 
hands of these bloodthirsty fellows. The women and 
children are to go into the fort as the only placa of secu- 
rity against the savage Indians, and the bombs, shells, 
and shot of the English. The officers who came with 
the summons have left us to return, and as soon as 
they arrive upon the opposite shore, the firing will 
commence. So I must lay aside my pen and escape to 
the place of safety, not know^ing wdiat shall befall me. 

''August Idth, 1812. Amid the horrors of war I 
have not been able to compose myself sufficiently to 
write. But now that the carnao:e has ceased for the 
present, and as prisoners we are quietly seated in his 
Britannic Majesty's ship, the Queen Charlotte, I will 
endeavor, my dear mother, to give you some account of 
the very thrilling scenes through which we have lately 
passed. While the bearers of General Brock's sum- 
mons to surrender were returning with General Hull's 

refusal to their demand, I took Mrs. H 's eldest girl 

by the hand and fled to the fort. This was some 
distance from our house, but I assure you I did not 
loiter by the way. When I arrived, I found most had 
preceded me. It was not long ere the cannonade 
commenced on both sides. The firing was continued till 
midnight without intermission. As nothing had then 
been eftected it was discontinued, and we were glad to 
breathe and take some refreshment. As many of the 
females and children had not been able to eat during 
the day, I concluded to make some tea. So we partook 
of our supper, — or breakfast I might as well have 


called it, it being past one o'clock A. M. — and tlien we 

endeavored to get some sleep, Capt. S , an officer 

in the company, had two days previously to the 

commencement of hostilities married a sweet little girl 
of fourteen years ! She was with us, having under her 
care a little nephew, a child five years old. The two 
hand in hand, like the * Babes in the Wood,' cried them- 
selves to sleep. But in vain I tried to court the drowsy 
god ; anxiety for the future drove sleep effectually from 
my eyes. Many others found slumber as difficult to be 
obtained as myself. It was a night never to be for- 

"Soon as the morning of the 16th arose the cannon 
commenced to roar with apparently tenfold fury ; and 
alas ! it did not continue long without doing execution. 
The enemy's bombs and shot began to enter the fort. 
Some of the ladies were employed in making cylinders, 
viz : bags to hold powder for the cannon. Othei^ were 
scraping lint, that it might be ready in case of necessity, 
to dress the wounds of the injured soldiers. While 
thus engaged, a twenty-four pound shot entered the 
room next to wliere we were sitting. Two officers who 
were standing in the room were cut entirely in two, 
their bowels gushing out as they fell. The same ball, 
after doing such horrid execution, passed through the 
wall into another room where a number of persons were 
standing. Here it took off both the legs of one man, 
and sliced the flesh off the thigh of another. The man 
who lost both his legs died very soon. Thus one of these 
angry messengers killed three men and wounded a 
fourth in a moment of time. 

'* One of the gentlemen who was killed, was a captain 


of the regulars, who had heen previously taken prisoner 
and released upon parole. He was now in the fort /or 
safety, not being allowed to take up arms until he was 
exchanged. But death met him where he least expected 
it. Soon after this another hall of equal size entered 
the hospital room. A poor fellow who lay sick upon 
his hed, and was asleep, had his head instantly severed 
from his body ; and his attendant was killed by the 
same blow, the shot striking him in his breast. The 
enemy had got the range of the fort so completely that 
it was now judged unsafe for the women and children 
to remain any longer in it. So we were all hurried to 
the root-house, which was on the opposite side of the 
fort, and was bomb proof. Never shall I forget my 
sensations as I crossed the parade ground to gain this 
place of safety. You must recollect, dear mother, that 
my feelings had been under constant excitement for 
many weeks, and now were wrought up to the highest 
pitch. Complain I ivould not, weep I could not ; but it 
seemed as if my heart would burst. My hair stood 
erect upon my head, (which in the hurry of escape was 
uncovered,) as I raised my eyes and caught a glimpse 
of the bombs, shells and balls which were flying in all 
directions. The boy warrior, whose father was killed at 
Tippecanoe, was running about upon the parapet exposed 
to the fire of the enemy, and seemed as fearless as if in 
sportive play. On going into the root-house I found it 
nearly full of women and children. What a scene was 
here presented ! One lady was so sick that she had to 
be carried there on a bed. The wife of one of the officers 
who was shot by that first ball which entered the fort 
was, (as you may suppose,) in an agony of grief. ' Oh, 


^Yllat haYG I done to deserve so severe a trial? what had 
my poor husband done that he must die V were her con- 
stant lamentations. Oh, thought I, tvliat have any of us 
done to deserve any thing else ? In the midst of all this 
sorrow and weeping, our child, too young to realize its 
danger, was screaming at the top of its voice because 
its attendant would not walk with it on the parapet ! A 
thing which had been often done for its amusement 
when it had been uneasy and fretful, and which it could 
not be made to understand was unsafe and impracticable 
now. Such a day of lamentation and weeping I never 
witnessed before, and pray I may never again be called 
to see. Only three or four of the whole number present 
maintained the appearance of composure, and they felt 
more than can be described. On looking from the door 
of the root-house to the quarters opposite I saw a ball 
knock down one of the chimneys, and was afterwards 
told that the same shot killed a man who was on duty 
upon the parapet the other side of the building. About 
this time the enemy effected a landing on our side, 
under cover of their armed vessels. Of these they had 
a sufficiency to demolish Detroit if they chose, while we 
had not a boat in order to carry a single gun. General 
Brock's efiective force was also double ours, and the 
Indians were now let loose on the inhabitants. In ad- 
dition to this our supply of provisions and ammunition 

was extremely small, and a part of General H 's 

most efficient troops were at this juncture at some dis- 
tance from Detroit, having been sent away on duty a 
short time previous to the summons to surrender. 
Under these circumstances General H., after consulta- 
tion with Colonel Miller, thought it best to capitulate, 


and obtained tlic best terms be conld. A wbite flag 
was accordingly displayed upon tbe parapet as a signal 
for tbe cessation of bostilities. Immediately tbe cannon 
ceased to roar, and all was still. General Brock tben 
sent to ascertain for wbat purpose tbe wbite flag was 
displayed, and learned tbe determination of General H. 
to surrender. Our soldiers were tben marcbed on to 
tlie parade ground in tbe fort, wbere tbey stacked tbeir 
arms, wbicb wore tben delivered to tbe enemy. Tbe 
American stars and stripes were tben lowered from tbe 
flag-staff^ and replaced witb Englisb colors. A royal 
salute was now fired witb tbe very cannon wbicb tbe 
Americans bad taken from tbe Britisb in tbe Eevolu- 
tionary war, and tbeir music played tbeir national tune, 
'God save tbe King.' How sball I tellyou our grief 
and mortification at tbis triumpb of. our foes. A 
tbousand emotions struggled in my breast j too nmnerous 
for utterance, too exquisitely painful to be described ! 
; " Tbe poor fellows" wbo were sbot in tbis contest were 
all buried in one oTave. After tbe surrender tbose wbo 
bad fled to tbe fort for safety returned to tbeir respective 
abodes. Tbe little girl of wbom I bad cbarge at tbe 
commencement of tbe siege was witb me until tbe 
close. Wben sbe saw tbe fine uniform of tbe British 
officers, after tbey bad taken possession, sbe expressed 
great deligbt and admiration, pointing at tbem and ex- 
claiming in broken language, (for sbe was too young to 
speak plainly,) ' Pretty, pretty !' Poor cbild ! sbe little 
realized wbat sorrow tbe transactions of tbat day caused 
to ber family, ber friends and ber country. 

^^ August idth. Tbe prisoners were put on board bis 


Majesty's vessels to-day. They are to be sent to 
Niagara and from tliencc to Montreal, on tlieir way to 
Qnebec. Tims a second time in the short space of six 
weeks am I a prisoner. I fear I shall not be so easily 
released this time, as my husband is with me ; and a man 
is of more consequence to the enemy as a prisoner than 
a woman. Whether my husband obtains a parole or 
not, one thing is certain : I shall not leave him unless I 
am compelled to. We were put on board the Queen 
Charlotte, a fine armed vessel of three hundred tons. 
In the same ship were General Hull and son, a number 
of Fourth Ecgiment men, both oflficers and soldiers, 
together with several public civil officers from Detroit. 

There were only three ladies, Mrs. Fuller, Mrs. S , 

the young bride of fourteen, and myself. Mrs. F. and 
Mrs. S. staid on board our vessel, however, but one 
night, we being so crowded, they were transferred the 
next day to another. Thus I was left without a female 
to speak to. But we were a merry set of prisoners that 
first night. Our friends would have laughed heartily 
had they seen us vrhen we laid ourselves dovrn to rest. 
There was but one state-jvom in the cabin where the 

prisoners were confined, and Mrs. F had taken 

possession of that before Mrs. S and myself 

arrived. Captain S v/as very much offended that 

a state-room had not been provided for Ms beautiful 
bride, to whom he had been married hardly a week. 
And I must confess that I myself had been led to ex- 
pect more from British officers, (whose politeness to 
ladies is proverbial,) than that they should monopolize all 
the state-rooms to their own use ! But as vre had been 
accustomed for many months to make the best of every 


tiling wc tliouglit it good policy to do so now. So we 
proceeded to arrange our beds as well as we could, con- 
sulting comfort and propriety as mucli as our very 

peculiar circumstances would permit. Capt. S put 

his bed next tbe state-room where Capt. F and his 

wife were sleeping, and himself occupied the side next 
the door ; we put our bed next to his, myself lying next 

to Mrs. S , and my husband the other side of me. 

Thus we ladies were as well protected as possible. The 
rest of the gentlemen occupied the remainder of the 
floor. Although nothing but variety had been our lot 
for many a month, yet I must confess that the unprece- 
dented novelty of our present situation drove sleep most 
effectually from my eyes, notwithstanding every thing 
was quiet on board the ship but ourselves. The next 

day Mrs. F and Mrs. S were placed in another 

ship not so crowded as ours, and I succeeded to the ac- 
commodations which the former had vacated. But this, 
though very convenient, was hardly a recompense for 
the loss of their society. I felt this loss the more, as 
we were now wind bound for several days. And to add 
to the tediousness of our situation, our fare was any 
thing but good. One day at table a gentleman near 
me remarked that if I could eat such bread as this, 
(pointing to a biscuit which he held in his hand,) I was 
a better soldier than himself. As he broke the bread 
the hairs and sticks showed that the flour, at least, had 
not been sifted. The next day I obtained leave to make 
a huge apple pudding, which we all enjoyed very much 
indeed. I met with quite a loss in going on board the 
ship, which detracted very much from my enjoyment 
and was quite a trial to my patience and submission. 


I had made up a small bundle to take in my liand, 
containing some work, with all my sewing apparatus, a 
very liandsome pearl breast-pin, (the gift of brother 

John B ,) and some money. As I was ascending 

the side of the vessel from the boat which conveyed us 
to it, I put my bundle into the hand of one of the 
boatmen who was assisting me, and never saw man or 
bundle again. This was a serious evil, as every cent 
which we had with us was in it. A young British 
officer learning my misfortune went on shore, purchased 
needles, pins, scissors, thimble and thread, and presented 
them to me. So my loss was partially made up through 
the politeness of the enemy. We were fourteen days out 
before we reached Buffalo. Eleven of these were spent 
in waiting for a fair wind, and we were only three days 
actually sailing across the lake. We landed at Fort 
Erie, nearly opposite Buffalo, on the Canada side. 
Here the British commanding officer gave General Hull 
liberty to fill the carriage which had been provided for 
him and his aid, (and which was the only one which 
could be procured in the place,) as he pleased. My 
husband had been acquainted with the General and I 
had boarded in his family, which I suppose was the 
reason why he offered ws the vacant seats in preference 
to others. Officers of the line were obliged to be with 
their men ; but as my husband's duties ceased when the 
soldiers became prisoners, he could avail himself of the 
comfortable conveyance which General Hull's politeness 
placed within our reach. I afterwards learned that the 
wives of other officers had a very uncomfortable time 
getting to Newark, which was thirty-six miles below 
Erie, having neither protectors or proper carriages in 


which to ride. But we were seated with the General 
and his aid, and guarded by officers of suitable rank on 
horseback to prevent our escape. Two of them pre- 
ceded us, two rode upon each side, and two followed us. 
All of them rode as fast as their horses could be made 
to go, and our carriage was obliged to keep up with 
them. True, their horses were none of the best ; but 
poor as they were, I think it was at the risk of our 
necks, we were hurried along with such velocity. I pre- 
sume the reason for this excessive speed was their fear 
that we should get a view of their fortifications, which 
were erected at short distances from Erie to Newark. 
In descending Queenstown heights I expected that we 
should be precipitated into the boiling waters below, 
but a kind Providence saved us from such a catastrophe. 
My head whirled as I endeavored to catch a view of 
nature's wonders in this remarkable locality. We dined 
at a hotel near the Falls of Niagara. These Falls, of 
which I had long heard so much, I had a great desire 
to see. Indeed, ever since we came west, my husband 
and I have said whenever we spoke of our return, ' We 
will see Niagara when we go home.' Now our wish could 
perhaps be gratified ; but oh, how strangely different 
from our anticipations. Still I did not feel disposed to 
neglect the opportunity. So I preferred a request to 
the officer in command, telling him that * though a 
prisoner, I trusted I might be permitted to visit the 
Falls.' He very pleasantly answered me in the affir- 
mative, and immediately after dinner sent a guard to 
escort us thither. We were astonished and delighted 
with this stupendous and sublime work of Nature, or 
rather I should say of Nature's God. But we were 


allowed only a short time for our stay, as it was 
necessary to reacli our destined stop^^ing place that 
afternoon. In conversing with the gentlemen who 
formed our escort, we found that they w^ere well 
acquainted with Lieutenant Goodale and wife, whom I 
had left on hoard the prison ship at Maiden. They ex- 
pressed their admiration of Mrs. G , who was in 

truth a lovely woman. We were then informed that 
she and her hushand had heen sent to Montreal a short 
time previous to this, and on their way had stopped at 
Newark, (the place to which we were now bound,) for 

some weeks. Here Lieut. G was placed in close 

confinement because he had spoken of his Majesty, King 
George, in terms which were offensive to the ears of his 
loyal subjects. [I wonder if our polite informers re- 
peated this as a wholesome caution to us.] I afterwards 

learned from Mrs. G herself that she was treated 

with much polite attention during her stay at Newark, 
by the British officers and their wives, and found the 
ladies very pleasant and refined. 

" We resumed our seats in the carriage after our 
return from the Falls, and at five in the afternoon we 
arrived at Newark. This is a very pleasant village 
directly opposite Fort Niagara. Here we found good 
quarters, and soon discovered that they were the very 

rooms which were occupied by Lieut. G and wife ere 

he was ordered into closer confinement. It was quite a 
pleasure to me to find their names traced upon the wall. 
But we were not detained at Newark long. Very 
providentially for us Gen. Brock Avas at this place, on 
his way to Montreal. At General Hull's request he 
gave my husband his parole because his wife zvas with 


him. So WO were once more free. Before tlie other 
officers A\lio desired the same privilege arrived, General 
Brock had left, and they were obliged to proceed to 
^lontreal. There those only ivlio were onarried and ae- 
companied hy their ivivcs were also liberated. This 
greatly provoked the officers who were bachelors, and 
made them very desirous of such an addition to their 
welfare. All the prisoners v»dio were carried to Mon- 
treal were marched through the streets there and around 
Nelson^s monument to the tune of Yankee Doodle, be- 
fore they were alloAved to put up for the night. An 
insulting display of triumph tliis, and worthy of a ruder 
age and a more barbarous people ! 

*' My dear Josiah having received his parole vras most 
anxious to depart. Accordingly the next day we left 
King George's dominions w^ith heartfelt joy. We had 
hut tiventy-jive cents ivith ivhich to travel five hundred 
miles, the troops not having received any pay for a long 
time. The communication with Detroit being so 
hazardous the money had not been sent. All the cash 
we had when taken prisoners was tied up in the bundle 
which I lost when climbing into the ' Queen Charlotte.' 
But our poverty did not dishearten us, so delighted were 
we with the hope of being once more in our own country. 
The river which divides Newark from Niagara is there 
quite narrow, and in a few moments we were safely 
landed in our beloved United States. We breathed a 
mental hurra! and imagined our respiration freer. Oh, 
liberty ! country ! home ! ye are magic words, and dear 
to every uncorrupted human heart ! 

" We went immediately to the fort, escorted by our 
brother officers, who saw our boat approaching and 


came to the wharf to receive us. The stone building 
in this fort was erected by the French more than a 
century ago. It is situated directly on the bank of 
Lake bntario, the distance between the building and 
the water hardly admitting a foot-path in its rear. Its 
high windows, its lofty and massive walls, its strong 
doors and broad, solid staircase all denote the purpose 
for which it was built. 

" After dinner we walked by invitation to the house 
of Dr. West. He was a physician in the army, but had 
purchased a beautiful farm on the lake, where his family 
resided. This family consisted of a wife, a sister and 
several children. We passed through some woods near 
the fort, and the recollection that those woods had been 
consecrated by the prayers of the sainted Isabella 
Graham, (a name which I feel unworthy even to repeat,) 
made them peculiarly interesting. I had now been for 
so long a time unaccustomed to walking, that in going 
only a mile and a half my feet became sadly blistered. 
With joy I hailed the appearance through the trees of 
the house where I was to rest for the night. We were 
received with great hospitality by .the doctor's family, 
who manifested their interest in us by every attention 
to our comfort and happiness. Once more admitted to 
a pleasant domestic circle, we for a season almost forgot 
the perils through which we had passed, and felt that there 

was something yet to enjoy. Miss W , when I 

retired for the night, followed me to my room, and with 
great kindness insisted upon bathing my blistered feet- 
Nor did all tlie objections which I could raise dissuade 
her from her benevolent purpose. Surely an obligation 
is laid upon me, if upon any one, to remember the 


stranger, for as a stranger I have experienced a thousand 
kindnesses which I can never forget. We were much 
refreshed and invigorated by our sliort stay with this 
excellent family. But being naturally most anxious to 
see our dear parents and relatives, we proceeded the next 
day on our journey towards dear New England. My 
husband had obtained funds for this purpose from the 
paymaster at Niagara. At this time the stage coacli 
did not run farther than Buffalo, which was about 
thirt^^-six miles from Niagara. So we hired a cart, 
which was the best vehicle the times afforded. In this 
we put our trunk, and spreading a mattress over it 
made us as comfortable a seat as circumstances would 
allow. But the roads were dreadful, being most of the 
way made of logs slightly covered with earth. We 
bore the jolting until our limbs vrere almost dislocated, 
and then resorted to walking as a relief. But fearing 
to blister my feet again, which were still very tender, I 
soon returned to our miserable conveyance. Thus we 
journeyed until about nine in the evening, when we 
arrived at a tavern, the only one within our reach, and 
only a few rods from the Falls of Niagara. We had 
come but eighteen miles this long and tedious day. 
Besides the badness of the roads we were frequently 
interrupted by officers stationed along the route who 
wished to learn from my husband the particulars of the 
surrender, which they had only imperfectly heard. 
This detained us very much. Wearied exceedingly with 
our hard day's travel we thought wo should gladly avail 
ourselves of any shelter for the night, however mean. 
Upon entering the house I was immediately struck with 
the absence of every thing that could be called com- 


fortable and feared that we liad not exchanged our 
situation for the better ; and so it proved. The only 
female whom we could see, prepared us a miserable 
supper, consisting of raw sliced onions with bread and 
butter. The onions she cut first, then the butter, 
and then the bread. All this was performed with one 
knife, which she was not guilty of wiping. After 
trying in vain to eat of this untidy repast, we sat in 
silence until I was ready to drop with very weariness, 
and yet was fearful to look at our accommodations for 
sleeping. While waiting for our supper we heard a 
groan, and inquiring the cause, were told that it 
proceeded from a young soldier who lay sick in the house 
with camp fever. When exhaustion obliged me to 
retire, we were shown up a ladder through the room 
where the poor young man lay. He appeared to be 
about eighteen years old. He was very ill indeed, and 
looked as if he must soon die. The head of his bed 
was close to the door of the next room, which we were 
to occupy, and this door being unhinged excluded 
neither sight nor sound. The only ventilation for the 
apartment was a small window consisting of six panes 
of glass mostly broken. Through this the full moon 
shone with uncommon brilliancy, and served to render 
visible the extreme filth within. The room contained 
two beds, and owing to its small size these came nearly 
in contact with each other. In one of them lay a 
traveler, already asleep and all unconscious of the weal 
or woe that surrounded him. The other bed was re- 
served for us, but was so extremely disorderly and 
unclean that all my senses revolted from the use of it. 
I implored my husband to leave, preferring to stay out 


doors, any where, rather than pass the night in such a 
place as this. It was worse than any thing v^hich I had 
been called to endure in the whole campaign. My 
sujfferings I suppose were much increased by my having 
rode and slept so much in the open air for the last few 
months. It was the contrast which made the dirt and 
confinement appear so terrific. But my husband with 
his prevailing desire to make the best of every thing, 
persuaded me to stay. Of course we did not undress ; 
but spreading our handkerchiefs upon the pillows lay 
upon the outside of the bod until morning. In addition 
to the discomforts already mentioned innumerable 
vermin began to prey upon our wearied bodies with un- 
exampled voraciousness. Add to these the piercing 
groans and foetid breath of the dying man, and the 
thundering of the mighty cataract, (which would of 
itself have banished sleep,) and you have some faint 
idea of the dreadful night vre passed. But no language 
can adequately describe the scene. . As soon as the day 
dawned we left, and as we passed through the next 
room we saw the poor young soldier gasping his 
last breath. A person near his own age, perhaps 
a brother, was kindly tending him. Fearing lest we 
had already imbibed this malignant disease we asked 
no questions, but hasted away. While the man who 
drove us was attending to his horse and making 
preparations for our departure, we paid another brief 
visit to the Falls and bade them adieu. Eeturning, we 
took possession once more of our yesterday^ s coach and 
proceeded on our way. But we met with the same 
interruptions as on the day previous : Josiah having to 
answer innumerable questions at every place through 


wliicli we passed respecting the surrender. Some of 
these queries amused us, and some exceedingly provoked 
us. It rained also during a part of tlie day, and 
our only shelter was an umbrella, wliicli prevented us 
from being wet to the skin. At six in the evening we 
arrived at Batavia, where a good night's rest at an ex- 
cellent house refreshed us beyond measure, and prepared 
us for taking the stage the next morning with much 
comfort. The coach w\^s easy, the roads were fine, and, 
what was still more delightful, we found agreeable 
companions. There was an onicer in the American 
service, a most intelligent and interesting man. There 
were two gentlemen belonging to New York city and 
on their way thither. Under their care was a lady with 
her two children and servants. She had left her 
father's in New York to join her husband at Detroit. 
But at Buffalo she heard of the surrender, and not 
knowing Y\^here to find her husband, who was now a 
prisoner in the hands of the English, she was obliged 
to retrace her steps, and return with her little family 
to lier father's house. She was disappointed of course 
in her expectations ; but the hope of her husband's 
speedy liberation and re-union with her in New York 
inspired her with courage and cheerfulness. Our fellow 
travelers all proved to be very sociable and interesting. 
Their minds were highly cultivated, and their manners 
pleasing and reiined. Some of them had been great 
travelers, and were apt at communicating the pleasures 
which they had enjoyed. Mr. Bacon and myself v/ere 
so exhilarated with the prospect of returning to our 
home and our friends that we were in just the frame of 
mind to enjoy such society and conversation. Oh, 


youtli ! liow ricli and varied arc thy treasures ! how 
"bright thy dreams of future good ! The first uight 
after leaving Batavia we spent at a very excellent hotel, 
which, however, was very much crowded, though large 
and commodious. We were obliged to share our room 
with our friend the officer, as it contained two beds. 
But we slept vrell and were refreshed by a most excel- 
lent breakfast, after which we again pursued our way. 
We passed through several pretty villages, Canandaigua, 
Skeneateles, Auburn, Geneva and others. AVe also 
crossed lakes and rivers, with which that part of New 
York State abounds, and admired the beautiful scenery 
which we had never before seen. Surely all these 
charming creations of Almighty power ought to lead 
our minds to their Divine Author, who has made all 
things for himself and nothing in vain. We arrived 
at Utica, a delightful village on the banks of the 
Mohawk. This pretty river only a few years since 
wafted the light canoes of the aborigines upon its 
bosom, and their rude wigwams adorned its banks. 
But now how changed. Beautiful farms charm the 
eye of the traveler with the glories of rich cultivation, 
and stately mansions are rising upon the romantic 
slopes which look down in grandeur upon the sparkling 

" We put up for the night at ' Baggs' Hotel.' This 
house is renowned for the elegance of its accommoda- 
tions, as is its proprietor for his suavity of manners and 
pleasing attentions to all those who are so fortunate as 
to make this their resting-place. Eefreshing repose 
and a bountiful table prepared us anew to enjoy the 
scenery which met our eye as we traveled on, as well as 


the interesting remarks of our traveling companions. 
We soon arrived at Albany, congratulating ourselves 
that our journey thus far had been safely, and for the 
most part agreeably performed. But here we must 
separate from our fellow-travelers whom we had come 
to regard as friends, and part with no expectation of 
ever meeting them again. So ifc is — the sadness of 
loartings must always, sooner or later, succeed to the 
joy of meeting ! And are our social tastes and instincts 
which find so much pleasure in their cultivation, and 
experience so much pain in deprivation, are these to 
perish and be annihilated when our bodies return to 
their native dust ? Believe it who can. For my own 
part I have an inborn consciousness, a feeling implanted, 
I am sure, by my Creator, that my thinking, reasoning 
soul, so full of susceptibilities, so endued with energies 
is, must he immortal, 

* Else whence this pleasmg hojDe, this fond de&he, 
This longing after immortahty ? 
Or whence this secret dread, this inward horror 
Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul 
Back on herself and startles at destruction ? 
'Tis the divinity that stii's within us ; 
'Tis Heaven itself that points out to an hereafter, 

And intimates eternity to man. 


The sold, secured in her existence, smiles 
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. 
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
Grow dim "snth age, and nature sink m years ; 
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth ; 
Unhurt amid the war of elements, 
The ^^Teck of matter and the crush of worlds.' 


" But I iinist turn from Addison, and from the 
friends witli wliom I parted, to anticipate the joy of 
meeting the friends to whom we were hastening, and 
from whom we liave heen separated these seventeen 
months. Two days more of travel, and we should 
behold them. The thought was pleasaiit indeed. We 
found, however, on inquiry, that if we continue directly 
on towards Boston, we should be compelled to stay over 
the Sabbath in Northampton. This we did not like to 
do, and t-ierefore concluded to remain in Albany till 
Monday. For husband had been informed that Gen- 
eral Dearborn was at the military depot near Albany, 
and with him were a number of officers whom Josiah 
very much vrished to see. Saturday morning we slept 
until past the regular breakfast hour, and when we 
arose our breakfast was sent into the parlor where we 
were sitting. While partaking of it, a Quaker lady of 
very pleasing aspect, who sat by the window, informed us 
(as a piece of important nev»s) * that the evening previ- 
ous an officer and Ms lady had arrived direct!// from 
Detroit, where they had been taken prisoners by Gen- 
eral Brock.' Finding that we did not manifest any 
surprise at the intelligence, and perhaps guessing some- 
thin o* from the silent smile and mutual sio;nificance 
with which vre heard it, slie soon contrived to draw from 
us the acknowledgment that we v^^ere the hero and 
heroine of her tale. She expressed great pleasure at 
meeting us, and made many inquiries respecting the 
transaction which had caused such commotion through- 
out the country. Her views upon the subject of war in 
general, did not very materially differ from my own. 
We both deplored it as an evil, all hough I would fain 


have trouglit lier to admit that it was sometimes a 
necessary evil. I believe she did go so far as to say 
* that if ever war was excusable, it was a war of defence.^ 

" As soon as it was known that my husband was at 
Albany, a number of military men called upon him, 
and he was diligently employed in answering the innu- 
merable questions which each new comer felt eager to 
ask. For since the days of Mother Eve, curiosity has 
been a prevailing foible of our common humanity. In 
the evening, the stage arrived from Saratoga Springs. 
A lady and gentleman alighting from it, came into the 
parlor where we sat. I soon recognizedt them as 
Lawyer Thurston and wife, whom I had often met 
before my marriage, at my aunt Smith's. Mrs. "Thurs- 
ton was an intimate friend of my aunt, and associated 
with her as managers of the Female Orphan Asylum. 
I longed to speak to her, but being younger, I waited 
to see if she would recollect me, and it was not lono; 
before I found that she remembered me perfectly. She 
and her husband manifested much interest in us, and 
we passed tlie Sabbath very pleasantly together. For 
the first time in many long months, we enjoyed the 
means of grace and went to the sanctuary with none to 
molest or make us afraid. More sweet and solemn 
than ever before seemed the worship of God in his 
earthly temple. I trust I felt to join with some sin- 
cerity in the praise of Him who had so wonderfully 
preserved me and mine. 

" Monday morning, we set forward toward our be- 
loved home, cheered with the prospect of soon seeing 
our dear friends. Mr. and Mrs. Thurston took seats in 
the stage with us, and I was gratified with such agree- 


able and excellent fellow travelers. We have been 
generally most fortunate in meeting good company 
wherever our lot has been cast. I consider this a 
special blessing, fur disagreeable traveling companions 
from wliom one cannot escape, are at once a nuisance 
and a torment. We bad a great deal of pleasant and 
interesting conversation which made the day seem very 
short, although we did not reach Northampton — our 
next stopping-place — until ten o^clock at night. Here 
a good supper and an excellent bed refreshed and 
invigorated us, and in the morning vre pursued our 
journey with all the eagerness and intensity of feeling 
which our situation was calculated to produce. We 
went on very rapidly and pleasantly until about eleven 
in the mornino; when our stao'e coach hrohe doivn. This 
I suppose, was the concealed thorn lurking in i\\Q rose 
of our delight. But we were none of us hurt, and with 
thankful hearts, we took our seats in an open wagon, 
which carried us to the point where our stage was to 
exchange. Here a convenient carriage awaited us, and 
without farther delay we proceeded to Boston, where we 
arrived at ten in the evening, and were received by my 
dear mother and sisters with open arms and a shout of 

It is to be regretted that Mrs. Bacon's journal ends 
here. . Had she continued the practice of recording the 
daily incidents of her life, and the scenes whicli passed 
before her observant eye, together with the thoughts 
and feelings which these elicited, a manuscript of rare 
interest would have been penned. For two or three 
years after their return from their western campaign, 
Mrs. Bacon and her husband remained in Boston, 


enjoying tlie society of clear friends and kindred. In 
the latter part of tlie year 1815 they removed to 
Sackett's Harbor, New York, where Mr. B. engaged in 
trade as a commission merchant. A military depot 
called Fort Madison being here established, our friends 
had the satisfaction of finding among the officers some 
of the friends with whom they had been associated 
during the war. They also made many new and most 
agreeable acquaintances, and here Mrs. Bacon con- 
tracted the warmest and most tender friendships of her 
life. Aside from family ties and the connections of 
kindred, the attachments which were formed at Sackett's 
Harbor proved the most delightful, and the most last- 
ing. Yery soon after their arrival there, Mr. and Mrs. 
B. became interested in the subject of personal religion, 
though some time elapsed ere they became decided 
Christians and confessed Christ before men. Years 
afterward, one who knew them well in speaking of 
Mr. B's public profession of faith in a crucified Ee- 
deemer says, " When that position was taken, it was 
taken never to he surrendered. Under an earthly com- 
mander he had practiced obedience, where to obey cost 
great peril. Surely he was not the man to shrink 
from duty, or fly from danger wlien the great captain 
of our salvation laid his claims upon him. During 
most of the time of his residence at Sackett's, he was an 
active member of the Presbyterian church there, and a 
part of the time a faithful and efficient elder." Mrs. 
Bacon's efi'orts there were very early directed to the 
formation of a Sabbath school. In this good work she 
enlisted with youthful ardor, and the enthusiasm of her 
earnest and benevolent nature. A small but most 


interesting scliool was established, and with a few kin- 
dred spirits, Mrs. Bacon became a Sahhath school 
teacher. A friend, in speaking of her labors and efforts 
there, remarks, *' For many years she was the head and 
prime supporter of Sackett's Harbor Sabbath school. 
Once, owing to deaths, and removals, and a general 
declension in religious feeling it seemed impossible to 
procure a single teacher, and the cry was ' our enter- 
prise must be given up.' ' No,' was the response of 
Mrs. Bacon, ' I shall teach alone first.' This she did, 
until her spirit and example had such an effect that 
others came in, the work of the Lord was revived, and 
after that, there was no lack of instructors." Much 
pains has been taken to ascertain particulars with 
respect to Mrs. Bacon's conversion. It doubtless oc- 
curred as before stated, soon after her residence at 
Sackett's Harbor, as it is known that some time 
elapsed after she indulged the trembling hope that she 
was a child of God before she took upon herself the 
vows of the covenant. The record of the S. H. church 
gives the date of her admission as May, 1820. And a 
friend writing from that place says of her, " She has 
many times been heard to remark that she had no 
consciousness of any sudden or remarlcahle change, as is 
the case with many. With her, the work appeared to 
be a gradual one, until the time that she fully decided 
to come out from the world and be upon the Lord's 
side. It may seem strange to some that a lady so 
enthusiastic as Mrs. B. should have no more marked 
religious experience. But one thing is certain. None 
who knew her, or were acquainted with her labors of 
love, and her indefatigable perseverance in overcoming 

88 ciOGHArnY of mrs. lydl\ b. baco^. 

every obstacle to promote the conversion of others 
can for a moment doubt that she herself was a rich 
partaker of the grace of Christ/' Another friend 
at the Harbor says, " 3Iy memory is stored with 
such a variety of scenes and circumstances connected 
with Mrs. B's Christian exertions while here that it 
would of itself make a volume. But these, after all, 
are only such as we read and hear of every day — deeds 
of kindness to the poor and degraded, bringing them 
into the Sabbath school, feeding the hungry, clothing 
the naked, instructing the ignorant — such deeds as 
claim the promise of our Saviour : ' Inasmuch as ye 
did it unto one of the least of these ye did it unto 
me.' '' 

From one of Mrs. Bacon's beloved Sabbath scholars 
at Sackett's, who is now the wife of an esteemed min- 
ister, a letter has been received, from which the follow- 
ing extract is taken. *' Among my very earliest recol- 
lections are the efforts which Mrs. B. made for the little 
ones of the Sabbath school. She won us to the Saviour 
by her own warm-hearted love to him and her tearful 
earnestness in the matter of our salvation. Well do I 
remember her instructions, and her unwearied exer- 
tions to make us understand and love the Scriptures. 
She tried to persuade us to love Christ and do good in 
imitation of his divine example. She made us believe 
that as baptized children of the church and Sabbath 
school children we ouo-ht not to live as the children of 
the world lived. She taught us that we were not 
cyphers but responsible beings, and capable of honor- 
ing Christ though we were the little ones of the flock. 
She interested herself in all our little affairs, temporal 


as well as spiritual, and won us to love lier by lier 
evident interest in our welfare. Had we any childish 
disj^utes to settle, any problem of duty or any little 
doubts to solve she was our mediator and arbiter. And 
perhaps nothing would bring a recreant child to duty, 
or quell the turbulent, so quickly and quietly as the 
threat of a playmate ' to tell Auntie Bacon.' Nothing 
gave me more pleasure than to receive permission from 
my mother to visit her, with a bunch of flowers or some 
little gift. Perfectly charmed, I would sit and listen 
to every word which dropped from her lips, watching, 
meanwhile, her busy fingers which plied the needle 
with as much ease and grace as she conversed, llany 
a time have I returned home, and taking my patch- 
work, seated myself beside my mother, in the humble 
endeavor to imitate the industry of my beloved teacher. 
When she taught by precept, she did it in so gentle and 
easy a manner, that it appeared to be less her object to 
instruct than to interest. Yet her words left an im- 
pression on the mind and heart not easily effaced. Her 
heart vras right with God ; and ' out of the abundance 
of the heart' she spake. She thus commanded the 
respect of all, and could converse any where and at all 
times on religious subjects with great ease. She never 
feared to rebuke sin in high or low places, but always 
with so much kindness and Christian love as not to give 
offence. She was once invited to a social gathering 
among the officers of the navy-yard and their wives. 
At the close of the entertainment a dance was got up. 
Mrs. Bacon not only declined a participation in this 
gayety, but reproved a professing Christian present for 
eno-ao-ins: in it. This she did with such wisdom and 

o o — iD 


meekness as not onlj carried conviction to the mind of 
tlic inconsistent disciple, and induced lier to abandon 
the practice, hut won her heart to her faithful monitor. 
Mrs. Bacon's constant aim was to do good at all times ; 
in her house, by the way, in the social circle, every- 
where her words distilled as the dew. But she taught 
still more by her example. Who among the living has 
done so much in this way ? In the sewing circle, in 
the female prayer-meeting, in the conference room, the 
sanctuary, and the Sabbath school, her presence and 
demeanor was most exemplary. Indeed, so constant 
was her attendance, that if she ever failed to be present, 
we invariably went to see if she was sick. 

'' The little white cottage in which she lived at Sack- 
ett's, how lovely it was. Embowered in roses and 
honeysuckles, and every inch of ground around it in 
the highest state of cultivation. How sweet were the 
moments spent there with this best and dearest of 
friends V^ The remainder of Mrs. Bacon's history will 
be gathered almost wholly from her correspondence. 

The letters of Mrs. Bacon, although written without 
the remotest idea of publicity, are, I think, all that 
could be desired for insertion in this brief memorial. 
For it is the simple record of one's daily life, thoughts, 
and feelings which most deeply interests us when 
studying an individual history. And surely these 
unstudied epistles to her kindred and friends so minute, 
so full, so tender, kind, and solemn, bring the writer 
before us as she tvas. As w^e read them, we feel a sym- 
pathetic share in her joys and sorrows, and almost 
identify ourselves with the different scenes and events 
in which she was an actor and a participant. I only 


regret tliat I have not more of these letters to copy. A 
large number whicli were written to lier mother during 
some of the most interesting periods of Mrs. Bacon's 
life were, after the decease of that beloved and venera- 
ble relative, restored to Mrs. B., and by her committed 
to the flames. She had held a most interesting corres- 
pondence with a friend at the Sandwich Islands, but 
the distance, and the length of time which must inter- 
vene before they could be received, coupled with the 
uncertainty whether they had been preserved, seemed to 
render it inexpedient to wait for them. With regard 
to the arrangement of the letters which follow, as far 
as it respects priority of date or location, entire exact- 
ness is not pretended. They are for the most part 
given as they seemed most naturally to come. 
The first is to her mother, and is dated 

" SacJcett's Earhor, Sept 22d, 1824. 
" My dear Mother : — T is to start for Boston to- 
morrow, and I cannot let so good an opportunity pass 
without improving it by a letter to you. I was very 

sorry to learn from A that your eyes are troubling 

you so much. Not only do I regret this for your own 
sake, but also for mine, as it deprives me of the pleasure 
of receiving letters from your own hand. I cannot 
urge you to write unless you can do it with ease to 
yourself, and if I can contribute to your happiness by 
writing to you it will be a pleasure to me to do it. I 
hope you will take good care of your health and not 
injure yourself. You have done your share of work, 
and ought now to live at your ease. I do not mean 
{dly, for I know you would not be happy, but do only 


just wliat you please, and take care not to lolease to do 
much. While dressing for dinner to-day, I thought 
what a pleasure could I pass the afternoon with you and 
my sisters ! But the thought savored of murmuring, 
and so IcJiecJced it For what right have I to complain 
when I knovf that my Heavenly Father has set the 
bounds of my hahitation. May resignation to his 
divine will mark all the thougJits of my heart as well as 
the acts of my life. May I be enabled to fill up 
life with usefulness, working while the day lasts, * for 
the night cometh in which no man can work.' When 
I look back upon the years of my pilgrimage, the ret- 
rospect causes me many a pang of sorrow and regret. 
So much time wasted, so many opportunities to gain 
knowledge misimproved ; ' unprofitable servant ' is 
wl-itten against every day of my life. But amidst all 
this, what cause have I to praise God for his goodness 
to me ; for health, and a disposition to wait on him in 
his sanctuary ; for so many precious privileges ; for 
faith to believe in his promises, and firm confidence that 
he will order all things for my good. Oh, what a 
Father we have ! My dear mother, with such a God 
what have we to fear ? If we are his, nothing can harm 
us. Lot us then hold fast this hope as an anchor to 
the soul, and pray much that our faith fail not ; so 
shall all the dispensations of his Providence be sanctified 
to us v-'hethcr prosperous or adverse. I hope my dear 
mother is enjoying the liglit of God's countenance, and 
that her path shines brighter and brighter. In our 
journey to the Heavenly Canaan we must advance or 
retrograde, we cannot stand still. 

" I have to lament that our church here is in a cold 


state. There are none inquiring tlie way to Zion ; none 
under conviction of tlieir sin and misery. Our Sabbath 
and evening meetings are well attended by the impeni- 
tent ; but as message after message is sounded in their 
ears with no apparent impression, I sometimes think 
they are gospel hardened. Judgments too are in our 
midst, several very sudden deaths having recently 

occurred. Two men in Mr. C 's employ vfere 

drowned, another died of fever. Mrs. H has lost 

her dear little daughter, just a year and a half old. 
She was a beautiful child. She had been complaining 
for some time, but no one thought her dangerous until 
she was seized with fits and died in a few hours. To 

add to this affliction, Mr. H was absent at the 

time, and has not yet returned. But the bereaved 
mother bears her trials with true 'Christian fortitude. 
I think they have been peculiarly sanctified to her, and 
when that is the case afflictions are certainly blessings. 

Mrs. H esteems you much, dear mother, and often 

inquires after you with aff'ection. Dear old Lady 

B has just returned to this place with apparently as 

good health as ever she enjoyed. She speaks often of 
you, and inquires if you will not come here again. I 
must tell you that the female prayer-meeting is held 
at our house. It is attended by increasing numbers, 
and we have some precious seasons of communion with 
God and with each other. But I must close with love 
to all the dear friends. When I write to you, dear 
mother, I feel that I am addressing the rest, because I 
know that they all read my letters. But, adieu. 
Your aff'ectionate cliild, 

Lydia B. Bacon.'' 


This is the only letter extant written by our friend 
during the fourteen or fifteen years of her residence at 
the Harbor, xifter several years of prosperous busi- 
ness there as a merchant, a season of great commercial 
pressure affected the interests of Mr. Bacon most un- 
favorably, and obliged him to abandon the situation 
which had been so pleasant to himself and his dear 
companion. But although stripped of all their re- 
sources, and under considerable pecuniary liabilities, 
they did not despond. As they would neither eat the 
bread of idleness or dependence, they anxiously sought 
a situation whore they might obtain an honest and 
comfortable livelihood. This was found at Sandwich, 
Mass., and thither they removed in 1829. " There for 
twelve years,'^ says my informant, " Mr. Bacon identified 
himself with the cause of Christ, superintending the 
Sabbath school, leading or seconding every religious 
enterprise, being a standard and a burden bearer during 
his entire residence in that place. There he also held 
civil oflaces of trust and responsibility, and was three 
times sent to the General Court of this State as a 
Eepresentative. Of Mrs. Bacon's active participation 
in every good work her letters afford abundant evidence. 

The first is to one of her dear Christian friends in 
Sackett's Harbor, and is dated 

" Sandwich, March 20tJi, 1830. 
" Think not, my ever dear sister, because I have de- 
layed writing you so long, or have written others before 
you, that you are tJie less beloved. Oh, no ! Your 
friendship has been one of the prominent sweets in the 
mixture which has been my lot since my acquaintance 


with you. I trust that the union of hearts found 
amidst trials and difficulties, and the exalted commu- 
nion of Christian intercourse will not be broken or in 
the least degree weakened by our separation. Your 
image, my loved Harriet, is often, very often with mo, 
and your repeated kindnesses afford me a pleasing and 
grateful retrospect. I cannot tell you how much I 
think of my Sackett's Harbor friends. The blessed 
news of a revival of religion among you, which was 
communicated by your dear husband and confirmed by 
our belovTd pastor, fills us with inexpressible delight. 

" Oh, how can we ever doubt the great ' I Am,' or 
despair of the conversion of any sinner, when we are 
constantly experiencing the fulfillment of those promises 
which are all ' Yea and amen in Christ Jesus.' Dear 

H , do you not feel fresh courage to persevere in 

the path of duty ? In imagination I hear the sound of 
the neio hell, calling those vvho love the courts of the 
Lord to mingle their prayers, praises and penitential 
tears at his altar. For God delights in the sacrifice of 
a humble and contrite spirit. I have fancied also that I 
could see numbers flocking to that little school-house, 
and with tearful earnestness inquiring ' what i\\Qj must 
do to be saved.' Oh, that we may hear that the good 
work is still progressing. 

" I am more than ever convinced of the superior 
religious privileges which have been for many years 
enjoyed at the Harbor. "While in Boston, I heard sev- 
eral of their most pungent preachers, such as Dr. B 

and son, Mr. M , Mr. W , and Mr. P . 

But I heard no preaching more faithful than that at 
the Harbor. You have again, my dear H , been 


called to mourn. Often lias tlie shaft of death entered 
3'Oiir family, and though in the present instance 3'ou 
were somewhat prepared, yet no doubt the loss of one 
endeared by relationship, as well as by Christian and 
social virtues, and who was of such importance to her 
family must be severely felt. I had a great desire to 
see her when I was at Northampton, and took a long 
and fatiguing walk for that purpose. But her physi- 
cian did not think an interview best, and this made me 
fear she vras not as well as I had been led to believe. 
Well, she is, I trust, at rest ; her trials and disappoint- 
ments all are over, and she can nov/ see that the path 
to her so thorny was all ordered in tender mercy by 
Him who ' doth not afflict willingly, or grieve the chil- 
dren of men.^ I sincerely hope that this bereavement 
may be sanctified to her husband, and result in his 
conversion. Then would he be more than ever qual- 
ified to discharge the important duties which devolve 
upon him in the double tie which now^ binds him to his 
motherless children. 

" Tell i/oi'j' dear mother that I enjoy now the society 
of 7717/ dear mother. We are so near that we have con- 
stant intercourse. She is very well and pleasantly 
situated. My dear husband is also well, and is much 
engaged in the Sabbath school here. Mr. B men- 
tioned that Mrs. C is superintendent of the female 

school at Sackett^s Harbor. I am happy to hear it, for 
I think her well qualified for the situation. I learn 
also that there is an increased attendance at the school 
since the revival of religion. I ardently long to hear 
that some of the dear cliildren have become subjects of 
this work of grace. Are there any new teachers, and 


do the old ones continue punctual and engaged? Ee- 
mcmber me to botli teacliers and fcscliolars as you Jiave 

opportunity. Tell Clarissa G that her gift has 

been of great service to me, and will be kept with much 
care as a memorial of the affectionate little Sabbath 
scholar who presented it. I presume your female 
prayer-meeting has increased in numbers since the 
attention to religion. Ah ! I often think of that dear 
little meeting and of the precious few who united their 
prayers and praises at our Father's throne. We have 
a similar meeting here. Our Sabbath school is not so 
flourishing as yours. It has been sustained through 
the winter for the first time in its history. They were 
about dismissing it when we came, but we prevailed 
upon them to continue it. They are now much pleased 
that they have done so. We find enough to do here, 
and I trust that we feel it a privilege thus to employ 
the talent entrusted to us. I am sensible that I do my 
duty very imperfectly, and I more than ever feel my 
insufficiency for the responsibilities devolving upon me. 
I try to look to him who has promised to be the strength 
of all who put their trust in him. Remember me to 

dear Mrs. B ; her trial has indeed been severe in 

the loss of her eldest son. May God comfort her ! Do 
not fail to remember me also to all who may inquire 
for me. And now, dear H., write soon, and give me 
full particulars respecting yourself and others. Noth- 
ing that transpires at the Harbor will be uninteresting 
to me. With many prayers that you and yours may 
enjoy a continuance of every blessing and a heart to 
appreciate them, I remain, in the strong bond of 
Christian affection. Yours, 

*' Lylia B. Bacon." 



The following extract from a letter to the child of 
her friend is given as a specimen of her regard for 
children, and her affectionate endeavors to make them 
happy. I think that I never knew a childless couple 
to wdiom children were so uniformly attached as Capt. 
and Mrs. Bacon. My own children both loved and 
venerated them, and will never, I am sure, forget them. 
The rare flowers which were sent me by Mrs. B. to 
strew around the faded form of my darling Mattie in 
her coffin, and the sweet plants which she gave my 
remaining daughter to plant upon her sister's grave, 
will be remembered while life lasts. Yes, Mrs. B. 
loved children, and w^ell deserved their love in return. 
But we wall read a part of the letter referred to. 

" To Miss Harriet. 

** I thought I perceived in the countenance of my 
little friend when I promised to write to her, an expres- 
sion of incredulity, as if she thought an old lady like 
Auntie Bacon could not or would not write to a little 
girl. But as I always endeavor never to promise with- 
out fulfilling my word, I must rob your good mother 
of a corner of her paper to tell my dear little pet that I 
have not forgotten her. I have many dear children to 
love in this part of the country, some of w hom are my 
dear nieces and nephews. But a corner of my heart is 
reserved for my sweet Harriet, w^ho often by her affec- 
tionate caresses soothed my sad or weary moments. I 
think I hear you greeting me when at play in your 
yard, or if you saw^ me across the street how soon w^ould 
come bounding along the tiny form, expressing so much 
pleasure in the meeting.^^ 


The next letter is to one of the dear young people in 
Sackett^s Harbor, formerly a Sabbath scholar of Mrs. 

Bacon's from whom Mrs. B had just received a 

most affectionate letter, desiring a correspondence. 

" Sandxiicli, 3Iass., April 10, 1830. 
" Most heartily and readily do I reciprocate the wish 
of my beloved Elizabeth to correspond, and thus con- 
tinue a friendship for one whose affectionate attentions 
have alleviated many trials which it was my lot to 
endure while a resident at Sackett's Harbor. For I 
cannot now revert to your unnumbered kindnesses, and 
those of your family to one so unworthy, (and who had 
no particular claims upon you,) without tears of affec- 
tion and gratitude. None but the unfortunate, possess- 
ing hearts of sensibility and refinement can realize the 
solace impart-ed by the delicate attentions of those whom 
we love and esteem. The contents of your letter were 
devoured with avidity, both by Mr. Bacon and myself, 
especially that part of it which related to the wonderful 
work of grace with which you have been visited. The 
delio;htful tidino-s that some for whom we had lono; felt 
anxiety had at length submitted to the supremacy of 
him who is '■ Lord of all ' excited in our hearts the most 
tender and grateful emotions. Gladly would we have 
flown on wings of joy and love to congratulate them on 
their recovery from the service of sin and Satan. 
Doubtless souls are alike precious in the estimation of 
Jehovah, But we, poor finite beings cannot well help 
feeling a peculiar interest in the conversion of those 
with whom we are more intimately connected or ac- 
quainted. That dear youth, Walter K., I do hope will 


be an influential, active Christian, one who will on all 
occasions let his light shine, and thereby lead others to 
irlorifv his Father in Heaven. You mention William 

F . He was one of our first Sahhath scholars, and 

his case is one of much interest to me, and so indeed 
are many others whom you mention. How delightful 
to see so many in their youth, and others in the merid- 
ian of life come over on the Lord's side. Oh, the7'e will 
he no dearth of Sabbath school teachers now ! My imag- 
ination is often with you in that dear school, and in 
that beloved sanctuary where my heart has been so 
often warmed while my mind was banqueting on the 
Gospel feast. Those were precious seasons never to be 
forgotten. There were dear friends with whom per- 
haps we shall never again unite in the pleasant services 
of God's house on earth, but may we be so blest as at 
last to meet in that upper sanctuary where are no more 
separations. I cannot tell you, my sweet Elizabeth, 

how anxiously we have looked for the name of 

among the converts. Why is it that a heart so kind to 
others should be so cruel to himself? Why should one 
who so delights in making others happy withhold his 
choicest affections from that Being who with a bounti- 
ful hand has loaded him with benefits ? Oh, may he 
speedily be brought to realize that there is a treasure 
in heaven, and make that treasure his own. It is truly 

gratifying to see the names of Mr. and Mrs. E 

among the happy number who have joined themselves 
to the Lord in a covenant never to be broken. Mr. 

E will, I am sure, be a very useful brother, being 

a man of energy and decision of character. Mr. P 

and Mr. Mc K also will be great helps. Great 


changes have taken place in Sackett's since we left. 
A few weeks after our departure, some of the fairest of 
the youth were suddenly snatclicd by death from the 
arms of their disconsolate friends ; others, as the result 
of protracted disease, were called to their account. 
But in the midst of wrath, God remembered mercy, and 
the conviction and conversion of sinners has been the 
angelic theme which occupied every tongue. Oh, how 
long-suffering and compassionate is that Being who has 
all power, both to destroy and to save. He is indeed a 
God who heareth and answereth prayer, and constantly 
verifies his promises to his believing children. By the 
recent accounts from the Sandwich Islands, kings 
and queens 'are still nursing fathers and mothers to the 
church. How very interesting to have seen that young 
king and queen dedicating their all to Jehovah ! Ke- 
member us with much affection to your beloved family. 
May we not flatter ourselves that in some of your 
journeys you will visit Sandwich. It is a quiet, pleas- 
ant village on the Cape, and the glass works are worth 
seeing, being an extensive establishment. We have 
many comforts and blessings. My dear husband has 
perfect health, even better than before his sickness. 
With much love to yourself and friends, and Mr, B. in 
jMrticuIar, I remain 

" Your affectionate 

" Lydia Bacon." 

Another letter follows to the same young friend, who 
had been suffering severely from a species of neuralgia 
in the head, and had expressed a desire for ' a long 


comforting letter' from Mrs. B., together witli some 
surprise that it should be delayed. 

'' Sandwich, July 2(jth, 1830. 
" Sympathy for your poor head, my precious child, 
has made me withhold my pen until the present time. 
I assure you this has required some self-denial, for it 
affords me much pleasure to receive and answer your 
affectionate epistles. Would that I could relieve you of 
that dreadful pain. I sympathize with you most truly 
in this severe trial ; hut I feel assured my sweet young 
friend realizes who it is that thus afflicts her. If a 
child of the Most High, there is a ' needs-be ' for your 
suffering, for our heavenly Father doth not afflict his 
children willingly. And though for the present not 
joyous hut grievous, yet the end may work out for you 
the peaceable fruits of righteousness. It is salutary to 
reflect much on the sufferings of Christians in past ages, 
and especially on the trials and sorrows of our Divine 
Redeemer, who suffered even unto death that he might 
bring us to God. Are you not lost in wonder and as- 
tonishment when you think of the love which caused 
this sacrifice ? Oh, the infinite evil of sin which made 
it necessary for the Son of God thus to suffer, thus to 
die ! Let us then cheerfully endure whatever his hand 
shall lay upon us, fearing nothing but the having a 
name to live when we are dead, and the possibility of 
being deceived and having no part in the marriage 
supper of the Lamb. Dear E., who would wish to have 
all their good things in this life — a short and transitory 
state which is only given us to prepare for another 
which shall never end ? A few more days, months or 


years and the places wliicli kno^Y us now shall know us 
no more foreYer. Oh, then may we find that our trials 
haYe worked out for us * a far more exceeding and 
eternal weight of glory.^ 

" Often, dear E , do I recall the delightful hours 

passed with you when together we sought instruction 
from the sacred page, or side hy side listened to our 
dear pastor's exposition of the Messed word. Those are 
seasons ncYer to return, but the tie which binds us to 
that people is not easily broken. We haYe a small 
Sabbath school here, but our church is scattered OYer 
some distance, which makes it difficult for all to attend 
with punctuality. Husband and I both haYe large 
classes, and those that are Yery interesting. I hope that 
you, my young friend, will soon haYe health to enable 
you to serYe in this blessed institution. We are Yery 
anxious to hear from you all, but especially from Mr. 
B. I felt extremely sorry to hear that he was unable 
to preach for you any longer. But you say rightly, 
' Some are called to worh, and others to suffer,^ and true 
religion is to perform the work or endure the suffering, 
as God shall appoint. I cannot but belie yo that if our 
Uycs are spared y'o shall meet again on earth ; but if 
this pleasure shall be denied us, most sincerely do I 
join Y^th you in the hope and prayer that we may meet 
where parting is no more. There, disrobed of sin, and 
freed from pain, Y'e shall ncYcr be Y'eary in the service 
of our Kedeemer. 

-■'i '.'i -.^$ i,'l -.Jf '.{l 

" We are boarding a few weeks in the family of my 

sister J , which is quite a relief while the warm 

weather lasts, and 2;iYes me more time to devote to such 


pursuits as are congenial to my taste. It is very de- 
lightful also to enjoy my sister's society after being so 
long separated. All I fear is that my rehellious heart 
will not feel gratitude in any degree commensurate 
with the favors I am constantly receiving. The season 
has been very delightful this summer. I presume your 
garden is in its gayest bloom. Keceive this letter 
warm from the heart of one who will ever think of you 
with the liveliest affection. With many kisses for the 
little darlings, and much prayer for your health and 
growth in grace, I am, as ever, 

" Your aficctionate and sympathizing friend, 

" Lydia Bacon.'' 

To Mrs. B , of Sackett's Harbor : 

" Sandzvich, Sept 10th, 1830. 
" How delightful would it be could I pass the day 
with my dear Harriet and her interesting family, and 
hold sweet converse with them as in times past. I can 
almost imagine myself in dear grandmother's room 
surrounded by you all, each eager to impart some infor- 
mation of what has transpired since last we met. But 
alas, this cannot be ; many, many miles intervene and 
exclude this pleasing intercourse. My only alternative 
is that of writing, and although not so gratifying as a 
personal interview would be, it must suflSce for the 
present. It is some time since we heard from the Har- 
bor, yet our interest in your village is not abated. We 
beg you to write soon and give us an account of all that 
is occurrinjx. 

" The summer has passed rapidly and pleasantly with 


US, every moment being filled with something useful or 
interesting. Mj husband and self have just returned 
from a visit to Boston, the first which we have made 
since our location here. He tarried a few days and 
then left me to finish my visit, which was principally to 
his parents at Xewton. For we should not have left 
this beautiful village in the summer for a visit to a city. 
While at Boston we were gratified in visiting some of 
the schools, it being the season for examination. It 
was very interesting to me to witness the improvements 
in the modes of instruction, as well as the proficiency of 
the scholars. I was charmed with the sight of so many 
lovely youth, but mused much upon the remarks made 
a few Sabbaths since by a young theological student, 
who is superintendent of the Sabbath school at Newton. 
He was speaking of the difi*erence seen between those 
who were educated together as they advanced in life. 
* I went to school,' said he, ' with a bright lad who sat 
on the same bench with me, pursued the same studies, 
gamboled on the same green. But my schoolmate, as 
he entered manhood, chose the paths of vice, and going 
from one degree of crime to another has now to expiate 
the guilt of murder upon the gallows.' This was 
Knapp, the instigator of the atrocious murder in Salem ! 
" After my husband returned to Sandwich, (leaving 
me in Boston,) I had a very unexpected pleasure. What 
do you think it was ? / was told that a lady from 
Sackett^s Harbor wished to see me. I flew to meet her> 
not knowing who it could be, my heart almost ready to 
burst with surprise and delight. Who should I embrace 

but dear Susan G ? I had thought much of her 

this summer, and wished much to see her, but little 


frucsscd I should so soon be oTatified. She had come to 
Boston with a party Avho were going to Vermont, she 
intending to visit me at Sandwich while they continued 
their journey to Vt. My visit at Boston was nearly 
through, and last Thursday we left for Sandwich 
together, accompanied by my dear mother. It is a 
beautiful ride from Boston hither. We stopped at 
Plymouth over night, and Susan and I slept together. 
The last time that we had this privilege was in Madison 
harracJcs I now we were in the land of our forefathers. 
There we had often participated in many events 
important and interesting to us ; here we visited the 
rock on which our ancestors first stept their foot, and 
together ascended the hill which is converted into a re- 
pository for the dead. We stept lightly over the ashes 
of the descendants of those who, under Providence, be- 
queathed to us so fair a heritage. From the summit of 
the hill we had an extensive view of the harbor and 
surrounding country. Susan and myself improved 
every spare moment in conversation about dear Sackett's 
Harbor friends. I cannot find words to express to yon 
how much we enjoyed her visit. Eemember us to all 

who inquire. Give my love to Mr ; compliments is 

too cold a term for such friends as we have been, to use. 
Say to dear little Hattie that I should write her a few 
lines had I room. I hope she is a good girl. Tell her 

Uncle B joins with auntie in love and kisses to our 

darling. With most affectionate regard for yourself 
and all the family, (not forgetting grandmother,) I re- 
main, dear Harriet, 

" Yours in Christian bonds, 

" Lydia Bacon." 


The next is a most tender and consoling letter to the 
young friend whom she had previously addressed, and 
whose illness still continued, causino; her much sufferino- 
and mental depression. 

" Sandwich, Feh. 15, 1831. 
" From your long silence, my beloved Elizabeth, I am 
led to conclude that you are still much indisposed, for I 
know that your perseverance and resolution would 
enable you to surmount difficulties if it were possible. 
I have thought much of you, my precious child, and 
fancied I could see you in your room bearing with 
meek submission that dreadful pain in your head which 
your heavenly Father sees fit to afflict you with. Oh, 
that you may be enabled to feel that his purposes are 
wise, and to say, ' Thy will, not mine, be done.' May 
that youthful heart which you have long since surren- 
dered to your Saviour be filled with 'joy and peace in 
believing.' May you have that peace which the world 
cannot give or take away. You have been signally 
favored at the Harbor in the outpouring of the holy 
spirit. Not only has your heart been gladdened by 
seeing the dear youth of the Sabbath school giving 
their hearts to Christ ; but your own dear little sister 
Mary has been a recipient of tliis blessing. How de- 
lightful and encouraging must this have been ! But 
where are the rest of your dear ones ? Is she the only 
one who will come into the kingdom ? Where is dear 
S. G. H. and L.? Do they still prefer the broad road ? 
Oh, that you may be enabled to tell me in your next 
that they too have chosen that good part which can 
never be taken away for them. 

" If your head will not suffer you to write me, do 


depute Sophia or Mary to write for you. I so long to 
hear from your dear family, whose kindness has 
entwined them with every fibre of my heart. How 
sweet is the recollection of the many hours spent in 
your society. How speedily did the moments fly when 
in your domestic circle I was so cordially admitted. My 
heart delights to linger in fond remembrances of those 
interesting scenes so long gone by. And now, dear 
girl, I would ask how you feel under this trying dis- 
pensation of Providence in regard to your health ? Do 
you feel resigned to do or suffer whatever your heaven- 
ly Father shall see fit to lay upon you, remembering 
that * as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth 
them that fear him ' ? Oh, that you may be enabled to 
lie at the foot of the cross, and draw sweet consolation 
from the promise ' as thy day is so shall thy strength 
be.' ]\Iay we all be ripening for a home in those blest 
mansions which our Saviour has gone to prepare for 
those that love him. 

" We and our friends here are all well at present, 
my dear husband particularly so ; he joins me in kind 
remembrances to your parents, grandmother and the 
children. Accept my best wishes for your present and 
future happiness. 

" I remain ycur grateful and affectionate, 

" Lydia Bacon.'' 

Anotlicr to the same friend, dated 

'' Sandwich, Aug. 30, 1831. 
"Accept my grateful thanks, my beloved young 
friend, for your highly interesting favor of April 23d. 


1 was indeed rejoiced at seeing your well-known hand 
once more, for it conveyed to me the pleasing intelli- 
gence that you were yet spared. Spared not onl}" to 
your friends, but to the cause of the best of Masters — 
that Master to whom you, my beloved child, have con- 
secrated the morning of your life. Oh, may life and 
health be continued to you, and strength be imparted 
from on high to enable you to pursue the narrow path 
that leads to joys which ' eye hath not seen nor ear 
heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to 

'' Think me not neglectful, my sweet Elizabeth, that 
I have not replied to your precious letter until the 
present time. This would not be just, for amidst the 
numerous cares and interests attendant upon my new 
situation which have made m}^ hands too full to write, 
my heart has been often with you. Imagination, ever 
busy, has brought your image and that of your dear 
family often before me, and recalled those seasons of 
social Christian intercourse Avliich are blended with all 
my retrospections of life spent at Sackett's Harbor. It 
grieved us to hear of a decline in religion in your 
church. I hope in your next you will be able to report 
' better things ' even ' things that accompany salvation.' 
I presume you notice in the papers accounts of a won- 
derful work of grace in almost all parts of our beloved 
country. It is truly astonishing. The revival still 
progresses in Boston. We have just returned from 
thence, and while there were delighted with the atten- 
tion given ' to the one thing needful ' in that gay and 
populous city. Great numbers of the youth of both 
sexes have joined the standard of the Lord among all 


the Orthodox denominations. Mr. Finney is to be in 
Boston in the course of a fortnight. He is now at 
Newport, R. I., where there is an astonishing work of 
grace in 2)rogress, The good ministers of Boston were 
at first a little fearful of having Mr. E. to labor among 

them ; but Mr. AY has been to hear him and 

returned with a good report, and they have invited him 
to come. Mr. F. has accepted the invitation, (as I un- 
derstand,) and will be with them at the time I mentioned. 
'' We received a paper from Sackett's Harbor a day 

or two since, announcing the death of Mr. E -. We 

feel that this must be a great loss, not only to his 
family, but to the community at large. As a husband 
and father, a teacher of youth and a Christian, his de- 
cease will be severely felt. I trust that his dear wdfe 
has that support from above which alone can sustain 
lier under this trying dispensation. The widow and 
fatherless have many precious promises in the word of 
God ; I hope that she and her children will be enabled 
to lay hold of them and put all their confidence in Him 
whose word is everlasting truth. We sympathize with 
them most tenderly. No doubt your family will 
sincerely lament the loss of this valuable member of 
society. You, as well as your brothers and sisters have 
received the first lessons of your education from him. 
Of course many tender recollections are associated with 
this assiduous teacher and friend who is now no more. 
But blessed be God we mourn not as those wdio have no 
hope. Though he was tardy in embracing the doctrines 
of the gospel, yet we hope he will not be least in the 
kingdom of Heaven. This blessed gospel, which so 
many reject, shed a light and peace around his dying 


bed. Let the unbeliever scoff; there is ^ joy and love- 
liness attending the death of a chikl of God which no 
language can describe. 

" It gives me much satisfaction, my dear E., to see 
the disposition with which you view the dealings of 
Providence towards yourself You have much to endear 
you to life ; but without grace these very blessings 
would have much increased your trials under the indis- 
position you have had to endure. May you come forth 
from the furnace as gold doubly refined, and be able to 
say, ' it is good for me that I have been afflicted.' 

" My mother has all her children with her at present, 
which has not been the case before in many, many years. 
She enjoys good health for her age, and unites with my 
husband and self in kindest regards to you and to all. 
Write soon, my beloved girl, to your ever affectionate, 

" Lydia Bacon." 

" To Mrs. B of Sackett's Harbor. 

" Sandivich, Oct 20, 1831. 
" My very dear Harriet: — Your highly interesting, 
but sombre letter of Oct. 6th, has produced so many 
emotions in my breast, that I know not what to say or 
where to commence. Although your silence had been 
protracted beyond what I expected or wished, yet I 
could not but believe that you had good reasons for it. 
My confidence in your friendship was too strong to be 
shaken, and I could not bring myself to think that 
time or distance had diminished it. I have felt that 
you had much to do at Sackett's, and my imperfect 
petitions were often arising to a throne of mercy on 


your bclialf, that grace niiglit bo imparted equal to 
your necessities. 

" What a scene you must have witnessed at the 

E s ? My heart bleeds when I think of it. What 

strength, what resolution, what a high sense of duty, 
what trust in God must have been necessary to have 
carried you through those kind but sad offices 1 Poor 
Charlotte ! ho^^ forlorn, how disconsolate must she now 
feel, for she has not yet learned to put her trust in the 
Father of the fatherless. Oh, that she may be led to 
Him who will support, guide, and protect all who rely 
upon him. May she hear his gracious voice, saying, 
' Call upon me in the day of trouble. I will deliver 
thee, and thou shalt glorify me.' Her mind has been 
well instructed in the truths of the gospel ; my fervent 
prayer is that her heart may feel its blessed influences. 
Dear child, give my kindest remembrances to her and 
to them all. Tell them I sincerely sympathize with 
them, and hope that they will turn to the Lord in this 
day of their calamity. Then will they have a friend 
indeed, one into whose compassionate heart they can 
pour all their sorrows, and find the consolation and 
support which they need. The pilgrimage of their dear 
parents has not been long but wearisome, yet now we 
trust they have entered into that ' rest which remaineth 
for the people of God.' Now they can look back upon 
the path they have trod and see that it was marked 
out by unerring wisdom. Now disease has no longer 
power over their bodies, nor sin dominion over their 
souls, but, washed in the blood shed upon Calvary, their 
robes are made white, and their harps and voices tuned 
to the praises of redeeming love. Dear Lucy, too, is 


gone. What a train of reflections does the tliouglit of 
her departure create in my mind. Her whole life rises 
in retrospective view before me, and the many inter- 
esting scenes in which I mingled with her are especially 
prominent. Like a dream, they fled, but 1 can hardly 
realize that she is a disembodied spirit. Her pilgrim- 
age, too, was short, and owing to infirmities of the body, 
from which she was seldom exempt, often wearisome. 
You say nothing special respecting her exit, but I trust 
that she was prepared to meet her God, and that her 
end was peace. 

" Your description of the state of the church is too, 
too painful ; your spirit must be grieved within you. 
Oh, that the great head of the church would send his 
Holy Spirit into your midst to rectify the sins and errors 
that abound ! God is doing great things at the pres- 
ent time in his American Israel ; every breeze comes 
laden with some delightful news of the Gospel's tri- 
umph. Let us then hope better things for poor Sack- 
ett's, even that the Sun of Righteousness may arise 
there with healing in his beams, and chase away the 
darkness of spiritual night. 

*' We are very glad to hear that Mr. Boyd's health is 
better, and hope that he may be entirely restored, for 
we think him calculated to be very usefuL Do remem- 
ber us to him when you see him. Dear Elizabeth 

C , with the rest of that estimable family, holds a 

large place in our hearts. She favors me with a prec- 
ious letter occasionally ; please say to her that I have 
answered her last, and that as soon as her health 
permits, I shall hope to hear from her again. My 


mother is well, and very grateful for your kind remem- 
l)rance of lier. Tell your good husband if he will hring 
you to see us it will afford us inexpressible pleasure. 
Adieu, my beloved in the Lord. 

" Yours ever, 

"Lydia Bacon." 

'' To Miss Elizabeth C , referred to at the close 

of the last letter. 

" Sandwich, Feb, 15, 1832. 

" It is impossible, my precious young friend, to 
describe the thrill which comes over me upon the pe- 
rusal of your interesting letters. I imagine myself 
with you, I see you, hear you converse, am seated by 
your side in the Bible class, the conference meeting, or 
the sanctuary, and all the interesting situations in 
which we were so frequently engaged together rise in 
review before me. As I muse, the tears flow in rapid 
succession, but not altogether tears of regret. No ; 
that would be ungrateful to him who permitted me to 
tarry so long with you, and has removed me hither that 
I might enjoy the society of my dear relatives. 

" I should have answered your letter sooner but have 
been prevented by the state of my health. I have had 
the prevailing influenza, and it has affected my lungs 
considerably. What the end will be I know not. I 
have not been well a moment since the second week in 
December, though not confined to the house except in 
bad weather. I have now a large blister on my 
throat, and hope it will be efficacious in removing the 
difficulty. I have some cough, and find it quite diflft- 


cult to converse much. I can more feelingly sympa- 
thize with you, my beloved child, than when I was well. 
Bemember me, dear E., at a throne of grace, and pray 
that strength may be given me to bear all my heav- 
enly Father's will. Ah, we know not how soon (if we 
are indeed God's children,) we shall be called to sing 
the praises of redeeming love around his throne. Time 
appears very short to me — eternity very near. But 
with the garment of Christ's righteousness about me, 
death ivill he welcome, come when it may. Oh, may our 
love to Christ inspire us both with that holy feeling 
which led an apostle to exclaim, ' For me to die is 
gain.' I heard a child of God, when dying, say, ' He 
considered death one of the greatest blessings, for it 
was his passport to his Saviour.' 

*' My heart was cheered with the sweet state of your 
mind in view of death apparently so near. But you 
were spared and permitted to attend the death-bed of 
your early instructor. How affecting to your feelings, 
how exciting to your sympathies must this have been. 
You accompanied your Christian brother to the confines 
of eternity, but there you had to leave him. No 
earthly friend can go with us through the dark valley. 
But the Friend, * who sticketh closer than a brother ' is 
nigh, to take us by the hand, and calm the waves that 
the passage over Jordan shall not overwhelm us. How 
dreadful the condition of those who have not such a 
friend in their hour of extremest need. We rejoice to 
hear that you have a good minister, and that the pros- 
pects of the church are brighter. And is our lovely 

S joined to the people of God? This is blessed 

news indeed. Tell her that I am happy to hear it, and 


that I trust she will be a firm, active Christian, taking 
up her cross in Tier youth. I presume she has a class in 
the Sabhath school. H , I always felt much inter- 
ested in, and rejoice to know that she too has chosen 
the Saviour as her portion. Well do I remember the 
first time she came to Sabbath schooL She was in my 
own class, and though quite ignorant of religious truth, 
was very desirous of acquiring knowledge, and seemed 
to listen with much attention to the instruction which I 

tried to impart. That school, dear E , lies very 

near my heart. Do give my love to the dear teachers 
and the chiklren who remember me — I shall never for- 
get them. It must have been delightful to you to have 
dear brother and sister Gallao^her once more at Sack- 
ett's. Were not the scholars overjoyed to see him ? 
We had a delightful interview with her two summers 
since — I believe I told you of it. Perhaps it is the last 
interview we shall ever have this side eternity. Do 
remember husband and self to her and her father's 
family most affectionately. Our dear father Bacon 
departed this life week before Thanksgiving, in his 
71st year. He died in the full enjoyment of that faith 
which is ' the evidence of things not seen.' We see 
some engagedness in religion here, and several have 

experienced a hopeful change. My brother W 's 

wife is among the number. Dear Elizabeth, write me 
again soon, and believe me as ever, fondly yours, 

" L. B. Bacox." 

To Mrs. B , of Sackett's Harbor. 

"It is indeed a great privilege, my beloved Harriet, 


to be enabled to communicate our feelings to each other 
in any way. But wbcn I take my pen so many thougbts 
rusli into my mind wbicb it would be inexpedient to 
commit to paper, that I would fain exchange this mode 
for the more delightful one of personal conversation. 
Oh, how many hours have we spent thus, while our 
hands plied the busy needle. The instruction which I 
often thus derived, and the consolation which I received 
are indelibly impressed upon my mind. Sure I am 
that your place will never be supplied to me. I have 
many kind friends here, hut no sister Harriet. Your 
last letter was full of interesting matter, and I thank 
you for answering my numerous questions. 

u We rejoice to hear that Mrs. W is blessed in 

her child. Oh, that she may indeed prove a prop to her 
declining age. It seems hardly credible that you should 
not have seen her for sixteen months ; don't you ever go 

to W ? I am not reconciled to your being so much 

of a ' Martha ' as not to have visited that beautiful 
village in all that time : especially as (having a 
carriage of your own,) you have the means so abundant- 
ly at your command. I am sorry to hear that your 
health is not good. I can heartily sympathize with 
you, for my own health has been miserable for some 
time past. I have been obliged to be careful of myself, 
and have been often deprived of the privilege of at- 
tending evening meetings, and occasionally the services 
of the Sabbath. But I would not murmur or complain, 
for oh, how long, how greatly have I been favored in 
this respect. How often have my willing feet walked 
with you, my dear Harriet, to the house of God, my 


heart filled with joy at the thought of salvation through 
a crucified Eedeemcr. How often have I taken my 
place in that Sahhath school with feelings not to be 
described ! That school, those children may forget me, 
hut never, no never shall I forget them. Our church and 
congregation here have at length received the blessing 
for which we have so long prayed. In February we 
had a ' protracted meeting/ preceded by a church fast, 
and this special efibrt has been owned and blessed of 
God, as we humbly trust. About sixty in our society 
give evidence of a change of heart, and the work is 
still progressing. The feeling has been deep, solemn 
and pungent, and embraces both the young and middle 
aged, including several heads of families. Our Sabbath 
school shares largely in this work of grace. Oh, it is a 
sweet and cheering sight to see the love of Christ 
reflected in the countenances of these lambs of the 
flock. One of my scholars, a colored girl about sixteen 
years old, is a hopeful subject of grace. When she 
told me, (to repeat her own expression,) that * her heart 
loved Jesus,^ I could have hugged her, black as she 
was. She is a dear child, and seems like ' a new 
creature.' Others in my class are thoughtful. Help 
me, dear friend, to praise Him from whom all blessings 
flow that I have lived to see a revival in a Sahhath school, 
a thing I so much desired to see at Sackett's, but was 
not permitted. Pray for us, that this precious work 
may be continued till all shall acknowledge Christ as 
their Saviour. 

'' We are very happy to hear that you have such an 
agreeable accession to your society as Mrs. Adams and 
her mother, and Mrs. M. They have it in their power 


to be very useful, especially as they arc members of the 
household of faith. Kemember me most affectionately 
to them, and to all inquiring friends ; I cannot designate 
all by name, but you know as well as I can tell you. 
It gives me much pleasure to hear that S. S. has con- 
cluded to study for the gospel ministry. I thought that 
would be his final decision. His mind was turned to 
the subject so early that I felt the impression would not 
be very easily effaced. My husband says you omitted 
two important matters in your letter. You did not 
send him your love, (of which he claims a share as well 
as myself,) and you told us nothing about dear little 
Harriet. I hope you will make amends in your next. 
We were very happy to hear of the local improvements 
in the Harbor, and think the value of property will be 
much increased. Eemember us most kindly to dear 
grandmother and the rest, and believe me 

'^ Yours in Christian bonds, 
" Lydia Bacon.'' 

. To Mrs. C , at Sackett's Harbor. 

'' I avail myself of the first real leisure moment 
since the receipt of your very interesting letter to give 
you evidence of my continued affection by replying to 
it. It rejoiced our hearts to hear of your welfare, and 
to know that your beloved husband is better. Truly, 
health is one of our greatest earthly blessings ; but like 
other mercies not sufficiently prized until it is with- 
drawn. "We rejoice with you that your dear T has 

been made a recipient of divine grace. Oh, that he 
may become a burning and shining light, a faithful 


laborer in liis Master's vineyard, and may his dear 
brothers be partakers of the like blessing. I am more 
than ever convinced of the value of early instruction in 
religious things. We see evidence of its worth at the 
present day in the conversion of very young children. 
' Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings ' God is per- 
fecting ' praise.' We hope to hear soon that there is a 
better state of things at the Harbor. When will the 
blessed Jesus bo all and in all to those v»'ho profess 
to love him? How long-suffering, how full of com- 
passion and goodness is he toward the sons of men. 
What mercy has he manifested towards this nation 
during the past year, in refreshing so many of his 
churches with his divine presence, and bringing such 
multitudes of sinners to bow to a Saviour's feet. And 
now he is abroad in the earth in judgment: the dread- 
ful cholera is slaying its thousands, and we know not 
where or when it will stop. How many has it sum- 
moned, (as it were,) in a moment to the tribunal of 
their Judge. How shocking the thought that so many 
immortals have been ushered unprepared into eternity. 
Will it not bring the thoughtless to consideration and a 
preparation to meet God in peace. 

''Yesterday, by appointment of our Governor, the 
people of this State observed a fast, that if possible, by 
humiliation and prayer, this dreadful calamity which 
threatens us may, by divine mercy, be averted. Other 
States have done, or vrill do, the same. Oh, that 
prayer may ascend from sincere and contrite hearts, 
and, presented through the mediation of him who ever 
liveth to make intercession for us, find acceptance and 
bring answers of peace. To those who are prepared it 


makes but little difference liow tliej pass from this 
world to another. But how necessary that we, as pro- 
fessing Christians, see that our lamps are burning, that 
we be not thrust from the kingdom with that awful 
sentence, ' I know you not.' 

** It gives us much pleasure to hear that our beloved 
Mr. Boyd has recovered his health, and is able to preac'^ 

at W . The remembrance of him is very sweet to 

us. May he long enjoy health and happiness. Happy 
he will ever be while engaged in his Master's cause, 
and I know he feels that nothing else, (comparatively 
speaking,) is worth living for. I can readily imagine 
that your visit to TJtica was both profitable and useful. 
How did you find that dear sister of your husband, and 
your good father and Cornelia ? She was a dear girl ; 
do remember me to her. Poor Lucy has sunk to an 
early grave. I felt much when I heard of her death, 
and still more when I read your letter giving a more 
particular account than I had before received. Her 
course was short and toilsome ; but I trust she is now 
where sorrow can never come. What a memento to us 
who survive of the frailty of earthly joys is the early 
death of many with whom we have passed hours of 
social converse and gone to the house of God in company. 

'' My dear Josiah sends a great deal of love to your- 
self and husband, and bids me say you are often in his 
thoughts, but his time is too much occupied for him to 
write. His hours of business are from six in the morn- 
ing to seven in the evening, and the business such as to 
require his constant presence. Besides this he has 
duties in the church and society which must be dis- 
charged. We find wherever we are that we are not to 


be idle, and our desire is to be useful as far as our 
limited abilities will permit. You know those who have 
but one talent must not bury it in the earth, or hide it 
in a napkin. 

" How does the Sabbath school succeed now ? Have 
you an interesting Bible class ? And how are Mrs. G. 
and Mrs. C, and the dear sisters of the praying circle ? 
May the presence of the Lord ever be with them. We 
are glad you have so good a pastor ; may he prove a 
lasting blessing ! Though unknown personally to us, 
we shall ever feel deeply interested in the pastor of 
' Sackett's Harbor Presbyterian Society.' With love to 
all your family, I am your friend, 

" Lydia." 

The following letter was written to the dear young 

friend heretofore addressed as Miss C , but who 

having happily united her destinies with the Eev. Mr. 
Boyd, received thus the congratulations of her faithful 
friend and correspondent. She will be designated here- 
after in these letters as Mrs. E. C. B. 

'' Sandwich, Oct. 27th, 1832. 
" My dear Elizabeth : — Your interesting epistle was 
received and perused as usual with unfeigned delight. 
It is very kind in you thus to contribute to my happi- 
ness, especially when you are pressed with so many 
cares. I should have answered your letter ere this, but 
unavoidable duties prevented me. The pleasant sum- 
mer has passed with great rapidity, and now the 
"whistling winds and changing foliage of autumn are 
heralding the approach of winter. This to many is 


unpleasant, but not to me. I enjoy all the seasons in 
their turn, and the many comforts wliicli solace us in the 
inclement season are a constant call upon our gratitude 
to that good Being who is the giver of every good and 
perfect gift. Yet the summer has many charms 
peculiar to itself. We often think and speak of your 
beautiful garden, and wish we could see it and its 
beloved owners. Our garden is very good, but will not 
compare with yours for taste and elegance. Do you 
cultivate the Isabella grape ? This and the Black 
Hamburgh are very hardy, and require very little more 
care than the wild grape. But where am I rambling ? 
'' My principal object in the present communication 
is to congratulate my beloved Elizabeth and the dear 
pastor upon their union with each other. This I do, 
dear friends, with the most heartfelt satisfaction, feeling 
assured that a union founded upon such princi^^les as 
yours must be productive of mutual happiness. May 
Heaven's choicest blessings be poured out upon you ! 
May you indeed be helpmeets to each other through 
a long and happy pilgrimage. You, my precious girl, 
are now in the situation which I have always anticipated 
it would be your lot to fill. May you have grace and 
wisdom given you . to discharge the numberless duties 
new and important which will now devolve upon you. 
Be every thing, dear E., which a minister's wife ought 
to be. Thus will you continue to sustain that character 
which has hitherto contributed so essentially to the 
happiness of your dear parents and friends. Great 
have been your advantages both natural and acquired ; 
the ten talents have been committed to you for improve- 
ment. Oh, how great is your responsibility ! I write 


not thus, my beloved child, because I think you have 
not duly appreciated all these considerations ; but they 
force themselves upon me, my heart is full, and I must 
write as I feel. You can never know the deep interest 
which I have felt in your welfare and future happiness, 
nor can you realize the pleasure it now gives me to see 
you so happily united to one so worthy of you. It 
must be a mutual gratification too that you are settled 
so near your beloved parents. This will mitigate the 
pangs of your removal from them. We have always 
been interested in Watertown, and shall feel that 
interest increased now that you are located there. Do 
write soon and inform us how you are pleased with your 
new situation, and what there is of interest in the 
Church, Sabbath school, Bible class, &c. Every thing 
which concerns you and yours will always he matters of 
interest to us. It must be very agreeable to Mr. Boyd 
to be in the same village with so estimable a man as 
Mr. Boardman. Please present our most respectful re- 
membrances to the latter and to his wife. 

" I thank you, dear E., for the intelligence contained 
in your last respecting so many of our young friends at 
the Harbor. Truly, it is a time of ' marrying and giving 
in marriage.^ The change to Elvira must be great in- 
deed, though not unpleasant to one of so amiable a 
disposition. She has been a great pet with her parents, 
and of course will need and require much indulgence 
from her husband. This I presume she will receive, as 
I understand he is a man of fine temper, and has been 
a most attentive and affectionate grandson. I love 
Elvira, and trust that the many prayers off'ered on her 
behalf by her dear departed mother will be answered 


by her becoming a clecided and influential Christian. 
Walter and Prances have every rational prospect of 
happiness. Having devoted themselves to Christ in 
their youth, they will escape many temptations incident 
to the morning of life. Mutually sharers of each 
other's joys and sorrows, may they ascend the hill of 
Zion with their faces ever thitherward, looking to their 
Saviour for grace to help in their every time of need. 
Thus will their lives pass sweetly and tranquilly, and 
their influence be happy on all around them. Tell 

dear I recommend her to devote fifteen minutes 

every day to a contemplation of the blessings which she 
enjoys. My knowledge of her disposition and tempera- 
ment induces me to send her such a message. Her 
good sense will, I trust, pardon the liberty I take, and 
her Christian feelings will lead her to receive it kindly, 
as coming from an elder sister in Christ, who has the 
advantage of some experience. Tell her I shall ever 
feel deeply interested in her welfare. Indeed, you 
know not how my heart yearns over the dear youth at 

the Harbor. I learn that Charlotte E has chosen 

the good part. Oh, Elizabeth, how great is my joy at 
hearing of the conversion of my Sabbath school scholars. 
Our school here is increasingly flourishing and interest- 
ing. My dear husband and self find our love to the 
lambs of the flock daily increasing. Do remember us 
to all our friends at Sackett's, especially to your father's 
family, and give our kindest regards to your beloved 

'' Yours most affectionately, 

" LypiA Bacon." 


To Mrs. H. B. 

*' Scmdwicl, Nov. 26t7i, 1832. 

" Your good letter, my dear Harriet, seemed to bring 
your form and face directly before me. "When I read 
it I felt as if in the very presence of that dear, dear 
friend with whom I have passed so many happy hours, 
and from whom I have received so many proofs of 
disinterested affection. These scenes I know can never 
return, but the recollection of them will never be 
obliterated. How often have we proffered our petitions 
together to the throne of grace. How often have we 
in concert endeavored to instruct the ignorant, comfort 
the afflicted and reclaim the wanderer. Those were 
precious duties, and precious privileges too. May my 
heart ever be filled with gratitude for the opportunities 
which I had at Sackett's of doing good, and may I be 
humbled with the review of my poor performance of 
such duties and obligations. Dear Harriet let us be 
faithful in fulfilling every present duty and persevere 
unto the end. Then, though we should never meet 
again on earth, we may together worship the Lamb 
around his Father's throne forever and ever. 

" Dear sister, how does religion flourish in your hef.irt 
now? Does the Saviour appear more and more 
precious ? Does the world recede, and time appear as 
nothing compared with eternity ? And can you uot 
sometimes say, * It is better to depart and be w'th 
Christ ?' How important that we be always prepared 
to die ! The judgments of the Lord are abroad in the 
earth, and both the righteous and the wicked are cut 
off in a moment. True, the places where you and I 
reside have been hitherto exempt from this dreadful 


scourge, but we know not how long tliey will continue 
so. If sin is the procuring cause of this great evil, 
surely Sackett's and Sandwich ought to tremble. 

" Thank you, dear sister, for the interesting commu- 
nications in your last letter. I had heard some of the 

news from our dear Elizaheth. Say to that she 

must make a good tvife. He was one of my 

favorite children, and a great friend of my husband. 
The latter says 'it would make Uncle Bacon very 

unhappy if his young friend had not an obedient 

wife.' This is one of the cardinal virtues in his esteem. 

I should love to visit them, and also our beloved J 

and E , who are at length happily united. May 

their lives be prolonged, and they be made abundantly 

useful. I have loved E ever since I knew her, and 

always felt that hers would not be a common lot. The 
propriety of her behavior, the rectitude of her senti- 
ments, and the strength of her principles seemed 
always far beyond her years. Now she is placed by 
Providence in a situation where her example may con- 
strain many others to glorify God. You, dear Harriet, 
are indeed full of cares. Some are destined to be 

Martlias ; but as good Mr. B says, ' it is better to 

wear out than to rust out.' I am sorry that your dear 
ao:ed mother suffers so much. Her life seems to be 
prolonged through much suffering. I hope she is 
making rapid attainments in the divine life. I often 
think of the many precious female prayer-meetings 
held in her room ; it was indeed a Bethel. Are those 
meetings still attended there ? Do remember me to all 
those dear sisters, and beg them not to forget me in 
their prayers. My dear mother sends her love to you 


and yours. She lias been quite sick tliis fall, so much 
so that we felt alarmed ahout her ; hut she has now 
recovered, and is as well as usual. I felt it a great 
privilege that she was where I could wait upon her 
when sick. She is now seventy years old, and enjoys 
hotter health than most aged people do. ^ * '■'^' '-•' 
We are glad to hear so good an account of our dear 
little nariiet May she ever prove a blessing to you. 
Tell her, as soon as she learns to write, she must send 
us a letter. I am sure she must have a great deal to 
tell Auntie Bacon about the birds, and trees and 
flowers, to say nothing of the dolls and playthings. I 
suppose your shrubbery has grown wonderfully since 

I have seen it. Do the apple trees which brother J 

planted along the fence bear yet? And how is the 
beautiful tree which I set out in the cottage garden 
fronting the street ? It was an acacia, and if it lives 
must, I think, be a large tree now. My dear Josiah 
sends a great deal of love to his little pet Harriet, and 
wishes she could dine with us tomorrow, as we expect 
our little nephews and nieces to help us keep Thanks- 
giving. But I must close with much love to you all. 

*' From your affectionate 
" Lydia Bacok'^ 

To Mrs. E. C. 

" Sandivich, March 22d, 1833. 
" Your affectionate letter, my beloved friend, was 
duly received, and its contents devoured with avidity. 
Could you realize the pleasure it gives me to hear from 
you, you would not be so sparing of your epistolary 
favors. The apparent depression of spirits under which 


you appeared to labor when you wrote has given me 
much uneasiness. Oh, that I had wino-s that I could 
fly to you for a short time, that we might, as in days 
gone by, impart our mutual joys and sorrows. When 
I remember that in your breast I ever found sympathy, 
I long to bestow comfort and consolation in your trials 
and sorrows. We are both of us sensitive ; I think you 
are more so than myself. Though much younger in 
years than I am, you have had much experience of this 
workPs changeableness. We have both arrived at an 
age that we can calmly and rationally view things as 
they actually are, making all allowance for the perverse- 
ness of our natures, which are constantly prepense to 
eviL That same selfish ambition which made Eve 
aspire to the wisdom of Him who made her is too pre- 
dominant in her posterity, and is ever marring the 
enjoyment which we might otherwise take. For we 
have much given us to enjoy even here, and our very 
troubles are calculated to give a zest to our comforts, 
as past deprivations enhance subsequent fullness. For 
many years I have felt as if every blessing was 
undeserved by me, and bestowed as pure unmerited 
grace by my heavenly Father. So that the bread tvMch 
I eat, and the ijure stream which slakes my thirst, cause 
at times emotions of gratitude tvholly indeserihahle. I 
have reason also to be thankful to that kind Providence 
which has permitted us to spend our last days with our 
beloved relatives. It adds much to my dear mother's 
happiness to have us near her. Here too is a field for 
usefulness where we can live and labor in a calm, peace- 
ful way which suits us well after so many changes. 

130 BiOGRArnY of mrs. lydia b. bacon. 

You know I am prone to look on the briglit side ; evils 
decrease and blessings brighten wbcn I compare tbem. 
" We heard of the death of your dear father Camp, 
and felt that you had met with a great loss. Well do 
I remember the last time I saw him ; I thought as I 
took my leave of him w^e should probably never meet 
again. I always thought him a lovely old gentleman, 
and agree with you in thinking that our loss is doubt- 
less his gain. Assured of this, why should we mourn 
departed friends ? Oh, rather let us endeavor to be 
prepared to meet them in glory. I thank you for your 
account of Mrs. Clark. I have never been able to learn 
before how her mind was exercised in view of death, 
though I always felt that she was a true and humble 
follower of the Saviour. I cannot help complaining of 
you a little for not telling me more about the friends 
with whom I do not correspond, but for whom I feel the 
most lively interest. Dear Mary White — has she 
forgot her sister Lydia ? I often think of the pleasant 
three months we spent together. And how is Mrs. 

Bridge and her dear little Ann ? How are Mrs. G 

and Clarissa? Tell the latter I still keep in good 
preservation the basket she gave me at parting, and it 
often reminds me of my dear little Sabbath scholar. 
Have you now a class in that school ? Who teaches the 
class which once was mine ? I suppose many of my old 
scholars have left, and their places are supplied with 
new ones. I am still favored with health and opportu- 
nity to teach a class, and have a very interesting one. 
We have two Sabbath schools here ; one is held at noon 
in our meeting-house, and another at the close of the 
afternoon service in the Pactory village. My dear 


husband is superintendent in the former and a tcaelier 
in the latter. So 3^ou see we are not permitted to be 
idle, although we are removed from that part of Zion 
where we so loved to labor. We have a sewing circle 
on Tuesday eve., and a female prayer-meeting on 
Wednesday. How I wish you would come to Sandwich. 
The glass works are well worth seeing, and it is 
extremely pleasant to strangers here in June. To me 
it is pleasant all the year round, for I dearly love the 
country. Already the bleating of the lambs and the 
sweet notes of the birds remind us that the winter is 
passing away. But I must close with my husband's 
love and mine to you alL 

" Your grateful and affectionate 
*' Lydia Bacox." 

To Mrs. H. B 

'' Sandwich, March 10, 1834. 
" Dear Harriet : — It always gives us inexpressible 
pleasure to hear from you ; and having been so long 
without one of your favors, I feared something serious 
has happened to you. Judg;e then of my pleasure in 
once more beholding your well known hand. But this 
joy was greatly damped when I read of your illnesses 
and sufferings. You have frequently been called to 
suffer in this way ; it is the Lord's will, and who dare 
' ask the reason why ? ' I rejoice to know that during 
this last indisposition you enjoyed unusual peace of 
mind. How good was our heavenly Father while he 
afflicted your body to pour consolation into your mind. 
How easy to bear infirmities when sustained by that 
Almighty grace which causeth . * all things to work 


ix)o:etlier for o-ood to those wlio love God.' And how 
blessed a thing it is that we can glorify him hj suffering 
his will as truly as by active labors. May we, dear 
sister, be ever ready and willing to glorify him in just 
the way he shall aj^point, whether by Christian activity 
or Christian endurance. We know that he is too wise 
to err. Lot us then endeavor under all circumstances 
to feel and to say, ' Lord, do with us as seemeth good in 
thy sight,' for * who is a God like unto our God ? ' 

" I too have numerous infirmities to bear ; but am 
enabled to keep about, and think my health better than 
when I wrote you last. I think of you and yours very 
often, and wish greatly to see you. The next time 
that you take a journey do come in this direction. I am 
indeed in earnest in the matter. Here you can have 
sea food, air and bathing. The latter, it is true, you 
must go to the beach to enjoy, but it is only a mile from 
our house. Will you come ? We were much pleased 
to hear that you had ' a protracted meeting,' and that 
the results were so satisfactory to the friends of Jesus. 
We must ever feel the liveliest interest in the church at 
the Harbor, for did we not witness its struggle for exist- 
ence ? and have w^e not felt to our hearths core the oppo- 
sition of the enemy? I often think of brother B's 
remark as applied to your place, ' every Christian counts 
fen,' and that ' it is an honor to be placed as watchman 
on tlic walls where constant vigilance is necessary.^ We 
are happy to hear that you have now such an able de- 
fender of ' the faith once delivered to the saints.' May 
you long enjoy his labors, and may the church thrive 
under his fostering care. Is he interested in the Sab- 
bath school, and do you have the S. S. concert regularly ? 


We have tlicm here : tliej are lield in our own liouse. 
My dear Josiah is still superintendent, and I have the 
charge of the female department. It is now fifteen or 
sixteen years since I have held this responsible situa- 
tion, and oh, how imperfectly liave I discharged its im- 
portant duties. Do you still sustain your female 
prayer-meeting? and is it well attended? I ofter 
think of the times when we bowed the knee together, 
with only a sufficient number to claim the promise, 
' where two or three are gathered together in my name 
there am I in the midst of them.' Those were sweet 
seasons ; but you are stronger now. May the number 
of those who delight to go ' where prayer is wont to be 
made ^ be largely increased. Your dear mother is 
favored in being restored to more comfortable health. 
Her image is often before me, seated in her nice arm- 
chair, and the many pleasant hours passed with her are 
not forgotten ; give her my kindest regards. M/ 
mother enjoys very good health for her years ; she is 
now seventy-two. Soon probably must these dear ones 
be laid in the grave ; but we may go before them. Oh, 
that we may all be prepared to meet in those blessed 
mansions above. There, freed from sin and no longer 
compassed with infirmities, vre shall have no hindrances 
to our worship and bliss. 

*' You say dear little Harriet is much altered. No 
doubt she is ; still I think I should know her. I could 
not forget those eyes. Has she forgotten Uncle and 
Auntie Bacon ? Well do I remember the shout of 
welcome with which she always greeted us ; it seems 
now to vibrate in my ears. Give my love to her. Our 


dear Elizabetli and lier husband you say are gone to the 
South. I did not tliink of their leaving so soon. My 
husband joins me in kind regards to you all ; he is 
happy to hear the temperance cause is looking up with 

" Write again soon to your affectionate 

" Lydia.^' 

The following letter from Mrs. Bacon to her friend is 
inserted to show the rectitude of her principles, as well 
as the sweet and tender charity of her feelings. I do 
not know the individual, male or female, who more 
richly abounded in deeds of charity and beneficence ; 
yet her strict conscientiousness and discretion made up- 
rightness and prudence ever the handmaids of her be- 
nevolence. An incident still fresh in the mind of the 
wTiter, though in itself a trifle, will illustrate my 
meaning. Happening into her dwelling one day, I 
found her just sitting down to her dinner. I mentioned 
the case of a poor woman but a few doors off' who was 
feeble and had nothing comfortable to eat. Mrs. B. 
looked at her own table, and musing a moment said, 
* I will send her this dish of soup ; it will be nourishing 
and relishing for her, and if I choose to deny myself I 
shall lorong no 07ie. I could send her money, but she 
would not be able to make herself a broth if she is so 
unwell ; and the fuel necessary to cook it would cost 
more than she could afford.^' So the broth was sent to 
the ailing indigent, and my friend made her own dinner 
without her favorite dish. But we will pass to the 

letter which is addressed to Mrs. B of Sackett's 

Harbor, and is dated 


" Boston, April 29, 1834. 

'* Mj beloved sister Harriet : — Your letter was cor- 
dially received. I am liappy to learn that your health 
is so much better, but regret to hear of the indisposition 

of Mr. H and N . That dear little Martha 

too, her sickness must be most distressing, sucli a sweet 
sprightly child, and lier mother's darling. When I 
think of her mother, what a crowd of memories press 
through my mind. Some of these, oh ! how delightful, 
and some alas, how bitter. Well, resignation to the 
divine will becomes such frail dependent creatures as 
we are. Heavenly Father, may we bow in submission, 
feeling that thou canst not err. 

" I cannot describe my feelings, dear friend, while 
perusing your account of that poor young orphan girl, 
the victim of a seducer ! Base villain ! his com- 
punctions, (if he has any feeling,) must be terrible; 
surely he must remember that solemn menace of holy 
writ, ' Vengeance is mine : I will repay, saith the Lord.' 
May he repent of all his wickedness, so that he may not 
lose his soul. You ask me if it is not in my power to 
afford that poor wronged one protection. Oh, gladly 
would I answer in the affirmative, but such is our situa- 
tion here that it would be impossible. My husband 
gains only a support by the business in which he is 
eno'ao^ed, and to do even that has to devote all his time. 
Still I would share my little cheerfully with the unfor- 
tunate ; but there are, (as you know,) claims against us 
which ought to be liquidated. All, therefore, which by 
the strictest economy we can save must be applied to 
these. We must be just ere we can be generous. I am 
sure you will believe me when I say that nothing would 

136 BioGRArnY of mrs. lydia b. bacox. 

give me more pleasure than to afford tliis poor girl an 
asylum, could I comUtcntly do it. Our limited circum- 
stances, as far as we ourselves are concerned, never 
trouble me, for we learned while in the army to make a 
little suffice. But when called upon to assist others then 
I feel their pressure. However, it is not for me to say 
who shall he the Lord's almoners. * The silver and gold 
is his,' ' the hearts of all are in his hands ' ; if there he 
a willing heart it is accepted ' according to that a man 
hath, and not according to that which he hath not.'' This 
is my consolation. 

" You will see by the date of this letter that I am 
visiting the city. My sister has taken a journey to the 
South, accompanied by her husband and eldest son. 
Knowing that she would not like to leave her younger 
children without some person more suitable than the 
servants to look after them, I offered my poor services. 
Mr. Bacon with his usual disinterestedness consentingc 
to my absence. So liere I am, and mother to four 
childreu. The youngest is but two ^^ears, and a very 
lovely, docile little creature. But my time is limited, 
and I must bid you adieu. Eeserving a corner of the 
paper for a few lines to your little Harriet, I remain as 

" Your affectionate friend and sister in Christ, 

" L. Bacon." 

'' To Miss Harriet : — I was delighted, my sweet little 
H., when 'Uncle Bacon,' — his countenance beaming 
with pleasure, — presented me vrith a letter horn you. 
I thank you for it, and hope to be often thus favored- 
I am glad that you have learned to write. It is a great 


comfort, (and no small accomplislimcnt also,) to be able 
to correspond with one's friends. I often think of you, 
dear child, and wish much to see you. Can you not 
persuade your dear father and mother to bring you to 
visit me. I am sorry you must part with your only 
sister, but hope the separation will not be final. I want 
to ask if you, my dear H., have yet learned to trust the 
blessed Saviour ? I hope that you have ; you are not 
too young to give him your heart. This is very pleasing 
to him who while on earth took little children in his 
arms and blessed them and said, ' Suffer the little 
children to come unto me.' How is Ann B.? I hope 
she has accepted this gracious invitation of the loving 
Saviour. Give her my kindest love, and tell her I 
often think of her. Sweet child ! she was one of my 
best Sabbath scholars. I well remember how earnestly 
and affectionately she used to listen to my instructions. 
How is Clarissa G.? and the little Butterfields — how are 
they ? Please, dear Harriet, give them my love, and 
remember me to all who care enough about me to 
inquire for me. 

" I am very much pleased to hear that the trees and 
shrubbery have grown so beautifully. Thanking you 
again for your pretty letter, I remain, dear child, 

** Your affectionate, 
'' Auntie Bacon." 

To Mrs. E. C. B . 

'' Sandivieh, Nov. dth, 1836. 
" My ever dear Elizabeth : — Your favor of April 2Gtli 
was read with the warmest interest. I then fully 
intended to have answered it immediately ; but a desire 


for a more convenieiifc season has deferred it until tlie 
present. And now in looking at the date of yours, I 
find that six months have elapsed since its reception. 
Accept my ackno^Yledgments, (though late,) for the 
very interesting account of yourself and family. 
Quickly was I transported to that dear family circle 
where I have spent so many happy hours ; and I 
enjoyed, as well as imagination could, the delightful 
scene. I trust that your anticipations were realized in 
the meeting of all its members. If such earthly re- 
unions are sweet, what must be the bliss of Heaven ! 

"It does indeed rejoice my heart to hear that so 
many of the dear Sabbath school children at the Harbor 
have chosen the Lord for their portion. How en- 
couraging for teachers and parents to sow the seed and 
water it with tears of faith and love, trusting the word 
of Him who has promised that ' they who sow in tears 
shall reap in joy.' Oh, may those dear children wait 
upon their divine Master with the sincere and earnest 
inquiry, 'Lord, what wilt thou have us to do?' 
Language will not convey all I feel when I think of 
that Church and Sabbath school at the Harbor. I 
sympathize with them in being so long deprived of a 
regular pastor ; but trust by this time they are supplied. 
They must not be unnecessarily particular; every liitle 
village in the Union cannot expect a Dr. . 

" We are happy to hear, dear E., that your husband's 
health is better. But we regret to learn that it is still 
not sufficiently improved to enable him to fill the 
situation in his Master's vineyard which is so congenial 
to his feelings, and for which we think him so abundant- 
ly qualiaed. What a consolation is it to God's children 


that tlicir Father in heaven knows what is best for 
them, and that he will not suffer anj adversity to over- 
take them that is not consistent with their higliest good 
and his ov\'n glory. And though he may deny to your 
heloved James the privilege of laboring where he thinks 
it most desirable, yet he can make you both more useful 
in another and a different sphere. May he give to each 
of you that submissive spirit which will enable you to 
say, ' Thy will be done.' 

'* I learn, (by your husband's postscript to your last,) 
that you have another immortal soul committed to your 
care to train for eternity. So your duties increase. 
Oh, may yon be abundantly qualified and aided in 
discharging them. I know that you realize in the 
fullest sense your accountability to God in this important 
trust. Parents have many helps in the present day — 
so many excellent books are being T\Titten for their 
benefit. There are the Abbots' works, the Mother's 
Magazine, and many others. But after all the Bible, 
the blessed Bible, is the book to which we should resort in 
preference to all others. May you, dear E., be enabled 
to train your little ones in the nurture and admonition 
of the Lord, and experience the joy of seeing them early 
consecrate themselves to Him to whom you and their 
dear father have already devoted them. How pleasing 
it must be to your own dear parents to see so many of 
their beloved ones walkino; in the straio;ht and narrow 
path I May they soon have the satisfaction of 
that they are all embraced in the household of faith, 
and look forward with joy to the time when they shall 
all be gathered — a whole family — in heaven. You did 
not mention Elisha, Harriet and Edgar. Dear children ! 


I remember tliem well ; do tell me all about tbem 
wben you write again. I bope it may be so ordered 
tbat M. may abide at tbe Harbor. Tbey surely need 
efficient members in tbat cburcb, and to wbom can tbey 
look if not to tbose tvJio have been fostered in its bosom? 

" Dear E., do write me soon, and I will try not to be 
so tardy in replying. Tell me every tbing about 
yourselves and friends wbicb you sball see fit to com- 
municate to one wbo will ever feel tbe deepest interest 
in you all Do not forget to mention your own dear 
little ones ; many cbanges may bave taken place since 
tbe date of your last. However diversified your lot 
may be, let your faitli in tbe blessed Eedeemer be 
uncbanging. Keep constantly in mind bis own as- 
surance, ' in tbe world ye sball bave tribulation ; but 
be of good cbeer, I bave overcome tbe world.' Yes, 
tbis life is a tborny patb, notwitbstanding tbe fruits 
and flowers wbicb a kind Providence bas scattered along 
its banks. But bow deligbtful tbe tbougbt tbat a time 
is coming wben tbose wbo love God sball enjoy tbat 
eternal life in liis presence and kingdom wbere neitber 
sin or sorrow sball mar tbeir peace forever. 

"Ere I close I wisb to inquire after some of my old 
friends at tbe Harbor. Dear sister Harriet B., Mrs. C, 
Mrs. W., Mrs. D., &c.; it is a great wbile since tbey 
have written me, and it would give me great pleasure 
to bear from tbem. Do remember me to tbem, and to 
all otbers wbo tbink me wortb inquiring after. My 
love to your dear grandmotber and parents and tbe 
cbildren, in wbicb my dear Josiab beartily joins. Give 
my kindest regards to your good busband, and kiss tbe 
dear babes for us. Our interest in cMldren is not in the 


least abated. A kind Providence still retains us in our 
places in tlie SaLbatli school here, although my health 
does not permit such uninterrupted attendance as at 
Sackett's. What a privilege to be allovrcd to labor so 
long in this blessed cause. Pray for us, dear child, that 
while God gives us health we may ever have a luilling 
heart to do what we can for him. My dear mother 
enjoys unusual health for one of her age, and desires 
her kind regards to you all. With a strict injunction 
that you write soon, I remain, 

" Yours in Christian bonds, 

'' L. B. Bacon.'' 

To Mrs. H. B. 

" Sandivlch, Fth. 28th, 1837. 
** Prompted by an earnest desire to hear once more 
from my ever dear sister Harriet, I have taken my pen 
to give you positive evidence that J have not forgotten 
you. In this way I hope to elicit a similar expression 
of remembrance from yourself. I have endeavored in 
every possible v^ay to account for your long silence. 
Prone always to look upon the bright side, I cannot 
persuade myself that you have ceased to think of one 
who still cherishes the warmest affection for the friend 
with Avhom she has passed so many happy hours. With 
your image, my loved Harriet, memory associates some 
of the most interesting occurrences of my life, and could 
I think this communication would be received with 
indifference I would lay down my pen at once. No ! I 
will still flatter myself with the pleasing thought that 
you love me, until you have had time sufficient after 
the reception of this to prove my idea true or false. 


" I learned hj John E that you were superin- 
tendent of the female department of that beloved 
Sahbath school. This I was rejoiced to hear, as I know 
your love for the cause of your divine Master, and your 
zeal and perseverance in every good Avork. May you 
bo amply rewarded for your labor of love to the lambs 
of the flock. Often when teaching my own class here 
do I think of Sackett's, and in imagination see you 
occupying the same place there which your unworthy 
friend once filled. The dear youth with whom I there 
met weekly in the house of God are often in my 
thoughts, and ever have a place in my prayers. Where 
are they all now? I have from time to time been 
cheered by the pleasing intelligence that some of those 
dear ones have been gathered into the fold of Christ. 
Oh, that I could hear it of all ! Eight years have 
passed in rapid succession since, with heartfelt sorrow, 
we separated from you and your dear family. I have 
endeavored since to set more loosely by the things of 
this world, and have not formed such strong local 
attachments as in the earlier part of my life. We are 
very pleasantly, (though humbly,) situated. Our 
lieavenly Father has been most kind in supplying us 
with the comforts of life, and has given us health, 
(generally,) to enjoy them, together with a disposition 
to fill usefully the sphere which his Providence as- 
signed us. 

" We have been hoping to see you this way for a long- 
time. It would give my dear Josiah and myself the 
greatest pleasure to welcome you with 'your husband 
and our dear Harriet to our home in Sandwich. Shall 
you not travel this summer? and will you not come 


tliis way? Does your honored motlier still live? or 
have you no longer to watch her wasting form? How 
is your own health? and how are your hushand, 
Harriet, Frances and her family, and dear Lucy's little 
ones? Is Mrs. Gray still living? Where are Mr. 

C 's family ? We heard that he was dead, and if I 

knew where to direct a letter, I should write to Mrs. C. 
I have given you a long list of questions, but these 
friends all live in my remembrance, and I am anxious 
to know of their welfare. So if you write me, be 
particular to tell me about them alL My dear mother 
sends love to you. She enjoys remarkable health for 

her age. She still lives with my sister T , whose 

eldest child, a daughter, is we fear in a fatal decline. 
She has been sick for a year past, and daily grows 
weaker. It is sad to see such a young creature, (just 
eighteen.) sinking to an earl}^ grave ; but we trust she 
is prepared for the change. 

" What an eventful period we live in ! How many 
themes agitate the public mind. What does your good 
husband think of the slavery question and popery? 
The latter seems to be making fearful strides in our 
happy land. Should not Protestant Christians soon 
awake and make commensurate efforts, we shall see 
Eomanism gain the ascendancy. What an awful result 
to contemplate ! Some few seem to be aware of the 
impending danger, and books and papers are sent forth 
to arouse the people to action on this important subject. 
I fondly hope that this country, hitherto so blessed of 
God, may not become a prey to * the man of sin.' 
Alas ! how soon would liberty become a name and truth 


a b}-e-word, and our lioly religion ' the form of godli- 
ness ' witliout ' the 230wer.' 

" I think were we in Sackett^s now, our husbands 
would find more topics than ever for reading and con- 
versation. Josiah loves to read the papers as well as 
ever, but has little time for this favorite amusement. 
He is confined to his business until eight in the evening. 
When he does read to me I am often reminded of the 
time when he used to read so much with your husband. 
I suppose the latter has his dear daughter to read to him 
now. Thus will she amply repay him for all the care 
with which he used to instruct Iier in this invaluable art. 
Well do I remember seeing him thus engaged with his 
little Harriet. But oh, the fiight of time ! She is no 
longer our little Harriet, but a young lady — Miss B. 
I suppose, really, her Auntie Bacon would hardly know 
her were she to meet her now. Does she resemble you ? 
Kiss her for me, dear sister, with just such a caress as / 
used to give her when vrith childish vivacity she ran to 
meet me as soon as I turned the corner in sight of your 
house. Oh, how well I remember her beaming looks and 
joyous shout of welcome. I should, be very happy to 
have a letter from her. Take each of you a large 
sheet of paper, and give me an account of yourselves 
and of other friends wliom I dearly love. 

" I hope to hoar that your pulpit is well and perma- 
nently filled. When I last heard, you were without a 
pastor. Husband unites with me in cordial regards to 
yourself and husband and Harriet, and to grandma 
also, if she is in the land of the living. 

*' Yours fondly, 
"L. Bacon.'' 


To tlie same. 

" SanchvicTi, Nov. dth, 1837. 

*' Being- entirely alone this evening, while waiting my 
hushantUs return from his business, I hasten to improve 
the time in writing to my beloved Harriet. Oh, could 
I just step in to your dear home and pass the hour in 
social converse, methinks it would quickly fly away. 

" Talcott informed us that your beloved Frances is 
no more ! Again are you bereaved of a darling child. 
One after another have they been taken ; three of them 
sustaining the interesting relation of waves and mothers, 
and dear Harriet alone is left you. How mysterious 
arc the ways of Providence ! But you mourn not as 
those without hope. They all died in faith, and are 
now, we trust, rejoicing ' with joy unspeakable and full 
of glory.' Your dear aged mother too is gone, and is 
now, we believe in the presence of that Saviour ' whom 
not having seen, she loved.' Oh, how many of our dear 
ones are gone before us. Among them our precious 
Susan Gallagher and Elizabeth Boynton : though long 
separated on earth, they have doubtless met in the blest 
regions above. We had fondly hoped to see them again 
in the flesh ; but he who knows the end from the 
beginning willed it otherwise. IMay the remembrance 
of their virtues stimulate us to copy their bright 
example, and to be followers of them even as they 
also were of Christ. We shall meet them no more 
here ; but if faithful to our trust, when Christ has no 
more for us to do or to suff'er on earth, we shall share 
with them in ' that inheritance which is pure and un- 
defiled, and fadeth not away.' Mrs. Boynton wrote me 
that Elizabeth died very suddenly with an aftection of 


the heart just as she was on the eve of marriage. We 
were very much pleased with seeing Talcott ; what a 
lovely young man he appears to he. I should think his 
dear motlicr ought to feel very grateful that her 
endeavors to train up her children in the right way 
have heen so successful. All pious parents are not thus 
blessed. Yet, I suppose if we believe the promises, we 
must allow that the failure is not in God. ' He is not 
a man that he should lie.' ' Hath he said and will he 
not do it? hath he spoken, and will he not 

good?' T looks very much like his dear mother; 

I could almost fancy myself conversing with her while 
talking to him. It was very kind of him to take so 
much pains to visit us. And now, ????/ dea?- naiiglity 
Harriet, I want to cliide you that you should come so 
near us as Springfield and return without visiting us. 
Tell your dear husband I feel so grieved about it that I 
know not what to say. I hope you will never be guilty 
of such a thing again. It is remarkably 'pleasant here 
from the middle of May till October ; but the most 
beautiful season is from the first of June until the 
middle of July. We will hope yet to have the pleasure 
of seeing you all here if you and we should live. I am 
glad to learn that you received the Magazine with the 
account of little Catharine. At the time of her death 
some of her friends suggested my writing something 
respecting her, but I did not then feel like doing it. 
Since I came to this place I often thought of her, and 
one Sabbath evening, after being with my class and 
feeling unusually interested in them, the story of 
Catharine recurred to me, and I resolved to write it for 
their perusal. When it was done my friends persuaded 


me to liavo it printed. It is so imperfectly written that 
I ought not to have consented ; hut inasmuch as it was 
in print, I concluded to send you a copy, knowing that 
you would feel deeply interested in the narrative. I 
regret that I have not a copy to send Mrs. C, as she 
requests ; I will try to procure one when I go to the city. 
" I hope you will write me soon and tell me the 
particulars respecting Frances' death. Where are her 

dear children ? Eememher us to W ; it is a most 

afflictive stroke to have the wife of his youth taken 
from him, and in so sudden a manner. The daughter 

of my sister T , whom I mentioned as sick in my 

last letter, died the first of April. She was the only 
daughter, and her death is a severe affliction to her 
widowed mother, to whom she was a great comfort. 
She was a pleasant, and we trust a pious child. My 
sister is very lonely ; every thing reminds lis of the dear 
departed. You know well these feelings. May afflic- 
tions he sanctified to you and to ns. Eememher my 
hushand and self to your good J., to Harriet, and to 
all inquiring friends. 

" Yours in love and sympathy, 

*' L. Bacox." 

The winter of 1838-9 Mrs. Bacon spent very pleas- 
antly in Boston, her hushand having heen chosen 
Eepresentative to the State Legislature. In the city 
she, of course, enjoyed many privileges from which the 
more retired situation of Sandwich deharred her. Some 
of these are referred to in the following letter to Mrs. 


To Mrs. E. C. B. 

^^ SandivicJi, June GtJi, 1839. 
" My dear Elizabeth: — Having just received intelli- 
gence that several vessels will sail for the Sandwich 
Islands in six weeks from this date, I hasten to impart 
the information agreeably to your request. I hope you 
will he ready to avail yourself of the opportunity, if 
you have not already sent via New York. I have been 
hoping to hear from my dear young friends before this, 
but conclude your time must be more usefully or 
agreeably employed. I need not repeat that it will 
always add much to my happiness to receive letters 
from you. It is now six months since I have had any 
tidings from you, and I begin to feel anxious to hear of 
your welfare. During our sojourn in Boston last 
winter, we had several delightful interviews with our 
mutual friends, Mr. and Mrs. McLcUan. You and your 
dear husband were not forgotten. They expressed 
much satisfaction that they had enjoyed the privilege of 
seeing you both, and requested to be remembered to 
you with much affection. We enjoyed much while in 
the city, being favored with health and opportunity to 
attend many interesting meetings. Among those from 
which we derived great pleasure and instruction were 
the lectures on the Evidences of Christianity, by the 
Ecv. Mr. Aiken, IMr. Blagden, Mr. Winslow and Mr. 
Towno. The latter is a young man, but highly gifted, 
and appears very much devoted to the cause of his divine 
blaster. I often thought of you while listening to 
them, and wished that you could enjoy them with me. 
" AVe retui'ned to Sandwich about the middle of April. 
Although we had enjoyed much in our winter sojourn, 


yet WG were glad to return once more to the peace and 
quiet of our village home. It was pleasant to resume 
the duties of our station, which had been for a time 
suspended ; it was pleasant to meet our heloved 
Sabbath school and praying circle, and to receive in- 
struction again from our own pastor. While in Boston 
I attended a Sabbath school at the House of Correction, 
which you visited while here. The school was composed 
of those degraded creatures whom we saw in iJie ivorh- 
room. In that room the school was held, and there I 
taught a class. Oh, how different were they from those 
comparatively innocent being s whom I had been ac- 
customed to teach. Yet the latter as truly need a Me- 
diator as the former, for the most moral as well as the 
most vile must be washed in atoning blood and become 
new creatures in Christ Jesus or they can never be 

*' In my class were eight females, some of them 
about my own age, and others more advanced in life. 
All were brought to this house in consequence of in- 
dulging too freely in ardent spirits. Under its influ- 
ence they had been led to commit crimes which must 
be expiated by a residence in those gloomy cells, which 
I presume you will well remember. I was pleased to 
see them solemn and attentive, and some of them well 
acquainted with their Bible. The last Sabbath I was 
there being the anniversary, we assembled in the chapel 
after school to join in further religious exercises and to 
hear the report, which was exceedingly interesting. 
Both male and female prisoners were present on this oc- 
casion, though separated from each other by a partition 
made high enough for that purpose. The seat which I 


occupied gave me a partial view of tlie men, and an 
entire one of the women. It was doiiMy painful to see 
among them so many youthful faces. The sight was to 
me solemn and affecting. Oh, my friend, what has not 
sin wrought ! What an exhibition here of its conse- 
quences, and what cause of gratitude that we have not 
"been left to fill such a destiny. I think if ever I felt 
both humble and grateful, it was while endeavoring to 
impart instruction to those poor women. Often would 
the language of Scripture rise to my mind, * Who 
madeth thee to differ ? and what hast thou which thou 
didst not receive ?' 

'' What cheering communications the last Herald 
contained from the Sandwich Islands. We have re- 
ceived letters from our friends who are on the way there. 
They had got round the Cape, were in good spirits, and 
had been favored with good weather most of the time. 
We shall soon expect to hear of them from the Islands. 
And now, my beloved E., let me hear from you and 
yours. With much love, 

" Yours truly, 

*' L. Bacon." 

To Mrs. H. B . 

*' Sandwich, May Gth, 1840. 
" I thank you a thousand times, my precious sister 
Harriet, for your very interesting letter, which I 
received as a i^roof that you had not forgotten mo. 
I could not believe that you had, although your long 
silence was rather ominous. I cannot tell you of the 
emotions which thrilled my heart on reading it. Ee- 


inembrances of scenes of past enjoyment; recollections 
of the fondly loved, the early lost ? 

'' Oh, how often do I think of dear Mrs. Hooker. 
How delightful were the hours of our early acquaintance. 
Hand in hand we partook of the same joys and sorrows, 
and united with others to henefit the needy around us. 
She had a large heart, and her early exit was a severe 
loss, not only to her family and friends, hut to the poor 
and the suffering. Dear Lucy too I loved, and Frances. 
Tell grandpa that I remember Prances as well as if I 
saw her hut yesterday. She was one of the most 
interesting children I ever knew ; if her little daughter 
is like her she cannot help filling a large place in your 
hearts. I should love dearly to see you all, and thank 
you for your kind invitation to come to the Harbor. 
But such indulgences are not for us at present ; it 
seems that Providence does not intend we shall have 
more of this world than what we are commanded to 
pray for — our daily bread. Yet for this I desire to be 
truly thankful, remembering the admonition of an 
apostle, ' Having food and raiment, let us be therewith 

" You m_ust come and see us. Cape Cod is a beau- 
tiful place, especially in summer. We are now living 
with my mother and sister Abby, or rather they are 
boarding with us. Mother is very well for a person so 
advanced in years. She is now seventy-eight, and 
retains all her senses remffi'kably except her hearing. 
My sister has lost her daughter and her two boys, and 
was very lonely ; so we moved into their house last 
July, and as I said they board with us. The house is 
small, but very pleasant, and we have a bed for a friend. 


It is a great pleasure to help sraooth tlie declining years 
of a beloved mother: this you, my dear H., know by 
experience. I often think of yours, (now a saint in 
glory,) when I look at mine. She is highly favored in 
retaining such good health, and I trust she may long 
be spared to us. 

'' It gives me great pleasure to hear so good an 
account of my ' pet.' I hope she may continue to be 
all that your fond hearts can desire. From some ex- 
pressions in her letter to me some time since, and 
subsequently from yourself, I was led to suppose she 
had given her heart to the Saviour. Is this really the 
case ? Tell her religion is the one thing needful, and 
most lovely when it adorns the brow of youth. I look 
around on our Sabbath scliool here, and often groan in 
spirit at seeing so little fruit from our labors. But that 
sweet verse often meets my eye and cheers my heart, 

' Though seed lie buried long in dust, 
It shan't deceive our hope,' 

and with fresh alacrity I try to pursue the path of duty. 
Have you a Maternal Association? We think them 
very useful and interesting. Our ordinary meetings 
are held once a month, and are spent in useful reading 
and in prayer for our children. Once a quarter our 
minister meets with them, and instructs them from the 
Assembly's Catechism. •The children recite, after 
which he questions and explains to them. 

" One of the public prints has recently mentioned a 
revival of religion at Sackett's Harbor. This rejoiced 
our hearts, for though we are not favored vvith one here 


we are glad to hear of tlie triumphs of the cross any 
where, and especially at our beloved Sackett's. It is 
now a long time since we have heard the anxious 
inquiry, ' What shall T do to be saved ?^ Some of our 
church are feeling quite strongly on the subject. God 
is pouring out his spirit all over the land, and I hope 
we shall not he passed by. My prayer is, * 0, Lord, re- 
vive thy work.' 

" My interview with our former beloved pastor and 
liis precious wife was like meeting an 'oasis' in the 
desert. I enjoyed it exceedingly. Elizabeth, you 
know, was one of ony cJiildren, and to see her, (as far as 
I could judge,) all that I expected and desired was very 
gratifying. She has many talents — of such much will 
be required. I pray that she may have grace given her 
to improve them an hundred fold. I am glad to hear 
that your dear Harriet is fond of music. Does she love 
jioivers too ? I think a taste for these should go 
together. I wish she would write me a long letter, and 
let me know her tastes, occupations and pleasures. If 
she cultivates flowers, I have some beautiful exotics I 
should like to show her. I would recommend the culti- 
vation of flowers to all young persons. It is a never- 
failino' source of innocent oTatification, and tends to lift 
the heart and mind to the great Author of nature and 
of being, who has spread this earth with so many 
beauties for the comfort and pleasure of his creatures. 
¥/hile they think of him thus as tlie God of creation, 
will they not also remember that tlie most precious of 
his gifts to man is an atonivg Saviour, and believing in 
Bim be led to worship the God of redemption. 


'* My linsbaiid is gone to Baltimore as a delegate 
from the Whig Association here, (of which he is 
president,) to the Whig Convention to he held at that 
place. He was not well at all, and I hope the journey 
will be of use to him. He read your letter with much 
interest, and I may venture to send his love, though he 
is not present. AYhat does your good husband think of 
the times ? I refer especially to the Sandwich Islands, 
and the conduct of the Freyicli frigate there. My sister 
J. has a son with his wife there. Through them I 
frequently hear of our dear Mrs. J. Mother and sister 
desire their love to you. With a great deal of the 
same from myself to you all, I am, 

'' Your afiectionate, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

The time of Mrs. Bacon's sojourn at Sandwich now 
drew to a close. Early in the spriug of 1841 her 
husband received an appointment as steward of the 
United States Marine Hospital at Chelsea. This was 
understood to be through the influence of General Har- 
rison, whose personal recollections of Captain Bacon, as 
he knew him in the army, and his convictions of his 
fitness for the situation prompted him to this act of 
friendship. From this position he was removed only by 
death. It has been truly said of him since his decease, 
" Of his self-denying, persevering assiduity, of his un- 
remitting fidelity to every interest connected with that 
institution hnoiu all men. For him to have remained 
through two administrations v.ith which he had no 
political affinities is the highest eulogium upon his 
capacities and faithfulness, and is no less honorable to 


those who for the public good suffered him to remain. 
The haying out of the grounds around the Hospital, 
their care and cultivation, the fruit trees, vines and 
flowers which are now so flourishing all bespeak his 
good taste, as well as his kind feelings towards those 
for w^hose welfare this asylum was established.' It is 
added by his pastor whose words I have just quoted, 
* He was active and forward in promoting the formation 
of this church, and was chosen one of its first deacons, 
which office he held until his death, never failing to be 
present at CA^cry communion season until the last, when 
disease had laid him aside.' Mrs. B's correspondence 
furnishes so good a history of their residence in Chelsea 
that any other detail seems superfluous. The following 
letter announces her removal. 

To Mrs. H. B . 

L, 1 
Chelsea, June IGth, 1841. J 

" My dear sister Harriet must excuse my not answer- 
ing her precious letter ere this. When I received it we 
were in an unsettled state, not knowing wdiat our desti- 
nation vrould be. So I delay^ed writing till something 
more decisive should be known. On the first of May- 
last my husband was appointed steward of this institu- 
tion. It is a- place provided by the United States Gov- 
ernment for invalid sailors. Here they may be restored 
to health, or lay their bones in its cemetery. Few die, 
however, compared with tlie number who are restored to 
health. It is an excellent institution, and we find our 
situation more agreeable than we had dared to hope. 
For although my temperament, as you well know, is 


sangiiino, I have learned by experience and tlie word 
of God not 'to anticipate too mucli, or place dependence 
on any thing below. 

*' Bnt methinks I hoar you say, * Is it possible that 
Lydia Bacon has left her mother again?' Yes, my 
friend, I have separated from that dear aged parent 
once more. It cost me much, but my duty and affection 
to my husband was paramount to all other considei-a- 
tions. And besides my mother is as pleasantly situated 
as possible, with my brother very near her, and my sister 

S also. We are but sixty miles distant, and can 

visit her often, or should it be necessary we could have 
her with us. But she resides in her own house with 
every comfort she needs or desires, enjoying a green old 
age. Although in her eightieth year, she is still 
surprisingly active, and her faculties are as bright as 
ever. She cuts and makes her own dresses also ; true, 
they are made after her own fashion, but they look very 
pretty, and it pleases her to do it. It was hard for her 
to part with us ; but she knew it was best, and I think 3^ou 
will say so too when you hear the particulars. 

^' The situation which my husband filled in the glass 
works at Sandwich, though very respectable and 
responsible, was at the same time most laborious and 
confining. And it only afforded us a living, even wdien 
the business was good. But for a few years past the 
business during a part of the time was so dull that the 
emolument received for unremitting service, with our 
utmost economy, only sufficed for a bare subsistence. 
For a time, indeed, the factory stopped entirely, and had 
not Providence provided for us by opening the way for 
Josiah to go to the Legislature, we should have been 


wholly witliout support. His licaltli too was suffering, 
and we could see no way of improving our coiidition. 
if we remaiued at Sandwich. True, we were very much 
attached to the people and the place ; it is one of the 
loveliest viUages that the sun ever shone upon. But 
my hushand came to the conclusion that it was his duty 
to try to do something towards bettering his condition. 
Learning that this post would soon he vacant, hj 
applied for it, and, although there were a host of 
applicants, succeeded in obtaining it. So here Ave are, 
he as steward and myself as matron of this establish- 

** We have a family varying from sixty to ninety, in- 
cluding help. The latter have to be hired, as the 
sailors leave as soon as they are convalescent, unless 
occasionally one vv^ill stay on wages instead of going to 
sea again. The salary is not large, but is much better 
than that received by my husband for his former occu- 
pation. Then the business is much more congenial to 
his feelings, giving him a fine scope for the' exercise of 
those benevolent traits of character which his friends 
have always ascribed to him. The duties of our station 
are more pleasant and not so laborious as in Sandwich. 
Much physical strength is not required of us, as there 
are none but sick men to be taken care of, and the nursing 
is done by suitable persons of their own sex. There are 
only three females in the establishment besides myself: 
these are two cooks and a laundress. My husband has 
ample room in the neglected grounds belonging to the 
place for the indulgence of his favorite pursuits, and I 
have opportunity within the building for the exercise of 
all the benevolence which I have the heart or the 


strengtli to perform. So, taking all tilings into con- 
sideration, it seems to bo just the place for us botli. 
We bog of you to remember us in jour petitions at a 
throne of grace, and do not forget also to praj for tlie 
poor sick sailors. We have great demands upon our 
sympathies. We are constantly coming in contact with 
suffering ; there are all kinds of diseases ; the subjects 
are of every age, from youth upward, and there is, of 
course, great diversity of character. I trust that some 
have left us healed both in body and mind". There are 
several interesting cases here now. Some, if their 
lives are spared, will, I hope, be useful to their fellow 
men. We have religious services on each Sabbath 
evening and on Thursday afternoon. On the Sabbath 
day those who are able attend worship in either of the 
evangelical societies, of which there are several in the 
village. Our society, (the Orthodox,) is the smallest, 
having just been started. There is, of course, every 
thing to be done. Oh, how I want to go forward in the 
establishment of a Sabbath school, female prayer- 
meeting, &c., but my duties to my numerous family in 
the Hospital forbid it for the present, as I have no time 
to take a very active part beyond its limits. What is 
duty in some situations ceases to be in others. Neither 
do 1 feel able to trot about as I have done in years gone 
by. I am now fifty-five, and although I enjoy tolerable 
health, yet I cannot endure the fatigue that I formerly 
did. Is it not, my dear friend, a most kind Providence 
to place us where we can be very useful, (if we will,) 
without extreme fatigue ? Is it not most kind that we 
arc not laid by unable to work for the Lord ? Oh, for 
the spirit of Jesus, our divine Master, to teach us our 


duty and cnaLle us faitlifully and cheerfully to perform 
it with a single eye to his glory. May we so experience 
the peace and blessedness of the gospel in our own 
hearts that we may he able to cheer, counsel and 
admonish those who need it. 

" The local situation of this place, (Chelsea,) is beau- 
tiful. It is across Charles Eiver, opposite Boston, with 
which it is connected by a ferry. Steam ferry-boats go 
and return every half hour. There is also a very 
pleasant drive to the city through Charlestown. There 
is a Naval Hospital in Chelsea, where sick and disabled 
officers are taken care of. From our parlor windows we 
have a beautiful view of our native city, the Navy 
Yard at Charlestown, and Bunker's Hill with its proud 
monument — all tending to produce associations in the 
mind of a most interesting nature. 

" We vrant you and your dear husband and daughter 
to come and see us. We want to see your dear faces 
once more in the flesh. AVe have good quarters and 
comfortable living, found by Government it is true, but 
as we serve them faithfully and have no family but our 
two selves, I do not think it unjust that our friends 
should visit us occasionally. My dear husband joins in 
this request and in sending his love to you with mine. 
With love to all who remember us at the Harbor, I 

*' Yours faithfully, 

" Lydia Bacon." 


To Mrs. S , of Sandwich. 

" Chelsea, September, 1841. 

" Dear Sister: — I suppose that you are heginning to 

think of going west. I hope you have had a 

pleasant time. I shall he much disappointed if he does 
not let us see him hefore he leaves Boston. How is 
Mary^s health since her return? We derived much 
pleasure from her visit, and hope that she enjoyed it 
enough to make her wish to repeat it. 

" Next week on Thursday, the Methodist meeting- 
house here will he dedicated, and our society is invited 
to attend. It is prohahle Mr. Mojffit will be here, and if 
he does I shall expect him to come to me after the 
dedication. The church is a nice, convenient building ; 
Christians in that society are somewhat engaged since 
the camp-meeting. Two of our sailors are to be 
baptized and admitted to the church. Tell Mary, the 
one with whom I had some conversation w^hen we were 
cutting out sheets in the office, is one of them. He ap- 
pears very wtII indeed. We have sixty-five patients 
now ; some of them are very sick, and others appear to 
be going to their long home. A number of them are 
thoughtful, but they are so constantly coming and going 
that we shall never know the result with regard to many 
of them. At the meetino;s in the house those who are 
able to attend are very solemn and attentive. It is an 
affecting sight to see them, when we consider the worth 
of the immortal soul, and the peculiar temptations to 
which seamen are liable. Cut off, as they are while at 
sea, from the sanctuary and the means of o-race, were 
they not sick sometimes in port they would hardly find 


time for reflection or instruction. I tell tliem it is a 
mercy they are sick, for it gives tliem time and oppor- 
tunity to care for their souls ; but, alas ! a sick bed is 
after all a hard place to seek God and prepare for 
heaven. Poor fellows ! some of them suffer a great 
deal ; I pity and pray for them. 

" Last Tuesday a sewing circle, or, (as ours is named,) 
the Ladies' Benevolent Society, was formed from our 
congregation. As no one here was found willing 
to take the lead, and I was unanimously chosen to the 
office of first directress, I felt compelled to accept it for 
the present. In addition to this there will soon be a 
prayer-meeting and Maternal Association ; so you see, 
my dear sister, change of place has not lightened duty, 

" Kev. Mr. Sogers, of Boston, Mr. Clark, of East 
Boston, Mr. Laurie, (who is to be a missionary to the 
Nestorians,) and our own dear minister, Mr. Langworthy, 

were with us to tea at Mr. 's. These gentlemen 

are all of the first order for piety, intelligence and 
courtesy of manners. 

'• In the evening we repaired to Slade's Hall, the place 
where we meet for divine worship. After suitable 
addresses by Mr. Kogers and Mr. Clark, we proceeded 
to the formation of an Orthodox Church and Society in 
this place. We had an interesting time both afternoon 
and evening. It is very solemn to enter into covenant 
relations vath God and our fellovr-Christians. I hope 
and pray that the Church thus formed may increase 
and bo productive of good to the cause of Zion. 

" To-day has been a solemn day at the Hospital. 
Two men have died, one at four in the morniDg, and 


the other at nine. The latter went very suddenly. He 
had just said to his physician, as he was leaving the 
room after making his morning call, * how much better 
I am.^ But as the doctor reached the door the patient 
fell back in his chair, dead ! His disease was an affec- 
tion of the heart. • Tomorrow both the deceased will 
be consigned to the tomb. We expect Eev. Mr. Taylor, 
of Boston, to officiate. 

*' Yesterday Mrs. B. and Mrs. S. spent the day wii;h 
us. They appeared to enjoy every thing except the 
sight of the large boilers of tea which was sending its 

fumes all over the house. Mrs. B thinks I ought 

not to allow the patients tea and coffee, believing it 
wicked to drink any thing but cold water. I wish I had 
no other sin to answer for than neglecting to convince 
sailors of the wrong of drinking tea and coffee. If I 
can persuade them not to drink rum I shall be satisfied. 
Remember us affectionately to your dear family and 
friends, and come and see us as soon as you can. 

" Yours ever, 

" Lydia Bacon." 

To her Mother. 

'' Qhehea, Jan. 17 th, 1842. 
*' Dear Mother : — Our brother and sister made us a 
flying visit, wdiich, though short, was very pleasant to 
us. We w^ish they could have stayed longer. Sister 
intends, should nothing prevent, to visit us when the 
weather is warmer. I hope that she found her late 
visit agreeable enough to induce her to come again as 
she proposes. Tell lier the two sick men whom she saw 
here have gone to their long home. Brother Harris 


died very suddenly on Wednesday evening, and Storer, 
whom we tlionglit dying Sabbatli evening, lived until 
Tuesday morning. Both as we trust fell asleep in 
Jesus.* Sabbath eveniug Storer sent for Josiah and 
myself to visit him. We found him in the most delight- 
ful state of mind, calm in view of death, his trust and 
confidence in Christ firm and unwavering. His only 
earthly care was a crippled mother whom he had 
supported for several years. * He must now leave her 
to the care of his heavenly Father.' Josiah prayed 
with him, and then we bade him adieu, shaking hands 
with him as if he was going a short journey. It was a 
solemn scene. Being nearly midnight almost every 
one was in bed in the house except those appointed to 
watch with the sick. But there were some whose ears 
were attentive to the conversation and the prayer, and 
I hope the scene will not be lost on them. Storer was a 
member of the Mariner's Church, (Mr. Lord's,) and 
came here from the Sailor's Home. I had often con- 
versed with and sent him some little extra comforts, for 
which he seemed very grateful. Before he died he 
blessed us for our kindness to him. Oh, mother ! it was 
siveet to have the blessing of a dying sailor a child of 
God, just ready to wing his flight to his everlasting 
home. Josiah wrote a very kind letter to his poor 
mother, from whom he received an answer this morning. 
Though much afflicted, she seems resigned to the will 
of God. His remains are to be sent home. Brother 
Harris is the colored man whom you heard me speak of. 
He had been ill a long time. On Wednesday morning 
I passed some time with him. He was quite comfort- 
able, though very feeble. He did not seem more so. 


however, than for some time past. His faith and hope 
were strong in the blessed Jesus. After conversing 
awhile we spoke of sudden death. He remarked that 
' he was willing Ms should be just as God saiv best ; but 
he thought it ivould he a 2^^^ivil^g^ to give his dying 
testimony to the truth of the religion of Jesus.' I left 
him, bidding him and others in the room good morning, 
never to see him more until the resurrection. Had I 
known it was his last day on earth, I could not have 
left him ; but so it proved. I went to a lecture in the 
evening, and when I returned at nine o'clock his body 
was in its coffin, and his happy spirit had gone to its 
blessed mansion above. He had ruptured a blood vessel 
while coughing, and was instantly suffocated. Happy 
brother ! what a Sabbath of blessedness was the last to 
thee. No more pain or sin to disturb thy enjoyment, 
no troublesome cough to break the sweet notes of praise 
to redeeming love. He was very fond of music, and 
sung his sweet hymns as long as-he was able. You 
don't know how much I miss him. I look with tears 
upon his empty bed, from whence he used to look into 
the grave-yard, and see those who were deposited there, 
and think of his own coming mortality. But the grave 
had no terrors for him. 

*' There is quite an attention to religion in our 
society. Meetings for prayers are held every morning 
at six o'clock and every evening at seven. Our 
minister and church are making great efforts to save 
immortal souls. Some few are already rejoicing, others 
are earnestly seeking the Saviour. It is a solemn 
time. Husband and I went to a prayer-meeting this 
morning at a neighbor's house. There were two rooms 


full of professors of religion, and a few anxious sinners. 
It was good to be there. We returned just as tlie sun 
arose. Our minister, (Mr. Langworthy,) is very faithful 
and devoted, and willing to spend and be spent that 
souls may be saved. But he wants his church to work 
with him and stay up his hands. * Oh,' said he, the 
other day, when speaking to Christians, ' do any thing 
else, but do not, oh, do not send your minister to the 
battle alone P Eev. Mr. Towne is to preach to us this 
evening. Good-bye, dear mother, and don't forget to 
pray for 

" Your unworthy, 

'' Lydia." 

To the same. 

'^ February 12, 1S42. 
''I suppose my dear mother and sisters would like a 
few lines this morning, and indeed I feel like filling out 
a sheet. My last would lead you to expect interesting 
intelligence. We live at a wonderful period. The 
Lord is doing a great work, not only in our midst but 
all around us, and in our beloved native city. Christians 
are beginning to feel their responsibility and the duty 
of laboring for the salvation of perishing souls. They 
see that they must not hide their talents, or be found 
sleeping when Christ has said, ' watch and pray.' The 
spirit of the Lord is evidently, in answer to prayer, fol- 
lowing the impenitent to their hiding places, and 
bringing them under the influence of the gospel. We 
have in our society converts from the Unitarians and 
Universalists, renouncing their errors and sitting at the 
feet of a divine Eedeemer clothed and in their right 


mind. Oh, what a privilege to be permitted to witness 
another revival of religion ! Oh, what a slothful, un- 
worthy servant I am. Tliis is a time to try tie hopes of 
professors. How can we flatter ourselves that we are 
the children of God and bought with the Saviour's 
precious blood, if we are unwilling to labor in bringing 
poor sinners into his kingdom ? Could we fully realize 
for one moment the value of the never-dying soul, we 
could not be so lukewarm, so careless. What infinite 
mercy is that which spares us, and permits us to be co- 
workers with God in such a glorious cause. Oh, that 
we may henceforth ' redeem the time, knowing that now 
it is high time to awake out of sleep.' I think much of 
Sandwich, and pray that the Spirit may be poured out 
in your midst. S. D. and Mrs. N. are feasting npon 
the good time here ; perhaps they will get their hearts 
warm and return to bless Sandwich. Oh, Christians 
there must not live so stupid any longer. Think how 
many young people are in your midst going on in folly 
and vanity and stumbling over careless professors into 
deep, irremediless ruin. 

" 14:t7i. Last Saturday Mrs. F. came and spent the 
Sabbath with us. I wished her to stay longer ; but her 
mother is almost confined to her room, and she thought 
it not best to leave her longer. Our meetings were 
delightful to her. She appears to me more lovely than 
ever, and bears her trouble with Christian fortitude. 
She says she has long felt the desolations of Zion at 
Sandwich, and thinks there must be something done. 
Why cannot the sisters meet and unite their prayers for 
their pastor and brethren, that God would pour out his 
spirit on him and them. Don't wait to feel melted and 


fervent, "but pray notv for tlie Holy Gliost to bc' sent 
into your hearts. I have not the least doubt if you 
will do this you will very soon see a different state of 
things in your midst. Do try it, trusting in the 
promises of God to those who seek him. 

" Have you heard of Mr. D 's conversion ? I 

should like to give you the particulars. He was brought 
up in Portland, under Dr. Payson^s ministry, and had a 
pious mother, but was not inclined at all to serious 
things. Mr. Bacon and myself have both conversed 
with him on the subject of religion at different times, 
but not much since the commencement of the revival 
here. About two weeks since, in general conversation, 
he remarked that he had not shed a tear for many 
months. ' Well,' said I, ' I hope soon to see you weeping 
for your sins,' and looking very earnestly at him I 
added, ' for I cannot, no I cannot give you up.' He im- 
mediately left the room. A week passed away, and as 
I sat in the morning prayer-meeting, the thought oc- 
curred to mo, what if eve7\i/ one present were to bring one 
impenitent friend to the meeting tomorrow? "Whom 
shall Z invite? was the next question. My thoughts 
instantly turned to 3fr. D., and I resolved to invite him. 
When I returned home he ivas the first 'person I met, and 
I gave him an earnest invitation, whicli he immediately 
answered in the affirmative. Nothing more was said, 
but at the appointed hour next morning Mr. D. was in 
the parlor waiting for us. As we started for the place 
of prayer, he observed that ^he didnU wish people to 
think he was serious, for he was not.^ He then added, 
* perhaps he had better not go, if it would lead any one 
to think him serious, though if he were he should not 


be asliamcd of it/ I replied tliat ' he need not feel 
troubled about that ; I should doubtless be asked why 
he came, but should say it was at my invitation.' So 
he went with me. But although it was the Sabbath he 
would not attend meeting through the day, but went 
off to Boston to divert his mind by calling upon a friend. 
He did not find him, and then went to Charlestown : 
but here also he was disappointed, and so returned to 

the Hospital. At our six o'clock meeting Capt. T 

talked to the sailors in a most faithful manner. Mr. 
D. was present, and evidently very uneasy : the spirit of 
the Lord striving with him, and he trying to resist it. 
After this meeting was over, Josiah and myself went to 
our evening meeting at the Chapel. Mr. D. concluded to 
go to the Methodist meeting, but resolved to deep through 
the services, and for this purpos } leaned his head upon 
the top of the pew. But it was all in vain ; his distress 
of mind increased until he could bear it no lono-er. He 
left the meeting, and resolved to seek my husband or 
Mr. Langworthy, and make known his feelings. Seeing 
the lights at our Chapel, he came directly there. Our 
minister was addressing inquirers, after which with a 
short prayer he dismissed the meeting. Mr. D. came 
immediately to him and requested conversation. I was 
standing by Mr. Langworthy, and could hardly believe 
my eyes as I saw my friend shaking like an aspen leaf, 
and his eyes bathed in tears. I left him with Mr. L. 
and my husband, and retired thinking of the discij^les 
of old who had been praying that Peter might be re- 
leased from prison, and yet when he was actually 
brought to their door could not believe it was he. Well 
may our Lord say to his followers, ' Oh, ye of little 


faith.' Mr. D. remained at the Chapel until ten 
o'clock, while Mr. L, talked and prayed with him. 
When he came home he followed Josiah to our room, and 
coming up to me with streaming eyes said, ' Well, Mrs. 
Bacon, you wished to see me weeping for sin ; you can 
now be gratified, for I have clone nothing else the whole 
evening.' I took his hand with joy, and we wept, con- 
versed and prayed together. At length we left him in 
the parlor to pray for himself. When I called for him 
the next morning, at his request, to accompany me to 
the prayer-meeting, I found him asleep in his chair, 
with his Bible by his side. He awoke calm and peace- 
ful, resolved to devote his remaining days to the service 
of his rightful Lord. He appears well ; his views and 
feelings are entirely changed ; he delights in religious 
duties, and is anxious for the salvation of others. Oh ! 
the wonders of sovereign grace. AYell may we exclaim, 
what hath God wrought ! I hope to give you more of 
this good news in my next. 

" Yours ever affectionately, 

" Lydia Bacon." 

To Mrs. T , at Sandwich. 

"March 7th, 1842. 
"My dear Sister: — The date of my letter reminds 
me of the march of tiinc, whicli has fled so rapidly the 
past year that I cannot realize what has become of it. 
What an eventful year it has been to us both as a 
nation and as individuals. Oh, that God would in 
mercy give our rulers wisdom, that they might rule 
this nation in the fear of God. Although much evil is 
abroad in the world, yet how mercifully is the Lord 


pouring out of the spirit in all parts of our beloved 
country. Many who were engaged in open wickedness, 
many wlio scoffed at the name and worship of God are 
now sitting at the feet of Jesus, learning his blessed 
precepts with hearts filled with love to their Saviour 
and to all around. This is traly wonderful, and proves 
the gospel to be indeed the power of God. 

" Last Friday I was present in the city at one of Mr. 

K 's prayer-meetings, where I heard a Mr. E. relate 

his experience. One week ago he was an open infidel, 
despising the Saviour and hating his followers. His 
account of himself was thrilling in the extreme. The 
sixth chapter of Micah and the tenth of Eomans were 
the Scriptures that were blessed to his conversion. He 
compared the love to Christ which filled his soul to an 
overflowing river. Oh, what a change was this ; and 
his is one of many such which are almost daily occurring. 
Mr. E's impenitent brother was in the house while he 
was relating his experience, and it would have melted 
your heart to have seen and heard him plead with him 
to love the Saviour. Every eye was wet, as in an agony 
of emotion he besought him to flee from the wrath to 
come. It was a solemn scene to look around and see 
five or six hundred people leaving their worldly cares at 
nine o'clock in the morning, in the midst of this gay 
city, to attend to the concerns of tlieir souls. But when 
I considered the importance of the work in which they 
were engaged, the world's pursuits sunk into insignifi- 
cance. We were transacting business for eternity, busi- 
ness that angels were watching with intense interest, 
while they waited to carry to lieaven the news that 
sinners were repenting. 


" S. D. will give you many particulars which I have not 
time to write. She stayed two days with us, and wo 
often conversed together respecting the state of tilings 
in Sandwich, for we have not lost our interest in that 
sweet village. We often spoke of you, and wished you 

were here to enjoy the meeting. She and Mrs. N 

have returned to Sandwich, I trust with their lamps 
trimmed and burning. I am sorry that your minister 
is going away ; I fear you will not get another soon. I 
must say that I never had a minister who in all things 

suited me so exactly as our Mr. L , and hushand is 

of the same opinion. Our little chapel is already full, 
and the revival still continues. Yesterday vras our 
communion, and a most interesting occasion. Several 
were added to the church, which has been the case 
every communion season since we organized. Our 
morning prayer-meetings are still continued. 

•' We are very sorry that mother did not get the 
things we sent. Josiah bought them and gave them to 
the carrier with many charges. Shall you not be able 
to make us a visit soon ? ' The time of the singing of 
birds has come,' and the spring is advancing. AVe have 
much to enjoy, but I am sorry to add that my health is 
poor. My side troubles me exceedingly, and aches so 
badly that it hurts me to write. My appetite is good, 
and I sleep well, but cannot eat much without hurting 
me. I think something serious must be the matter, 
and my iinpression is that I ought to be ready for a 
sudden summons to another ivorld. Oh, that I may be 
well prepared, then no matter how soon or how suddenly 
my call shall come. 


" Mrs. H is in tlie city ; I shall expect lier to 

make me a visit as slie promised ere slie returns. Mr. 

D is well, and sends liis respects to you. He 

appears well, and is a faithful worker in the good cause. 
He has it in his power to do a great deal of good in 
this house. Here is every variety of character, and 
much wisdom as well as faithfulness is needed. 

" Love to all friends. Let us hear from you soon. 
Josiah sends much love to you and dear mother. Good- 
bye, my dear sister. 

'' Your affectionate, 

" L. B. Bacon." 

To Mrs. M. S., of Sandwich. 

'' Chelsea, 3farch 26, 1842. 
<' Through the goodness of God, my dear sister, I 
am once more permitted to address you. Although it 
is some time since I have written, think not it is be- 
cause I love or think of you less than I ever did. No ; 
my thoughts are often with you, and I can imagine how 
happy you must be that your prayers are answered with 
respect to Theodore. What a blessing that, ere he 
he leaves his home entirely, he should have found the 
pearl of great price. I trust he may bo a burning and 
shining light, and that his example may allure others 
to the Saviour. Especially do I hope that his two 
young sisters may become interested in the great salva- 
tion. I cannot think it possible that they will longer 
withhold their hearts from Christ, who is calling after 
them with infinite tenderness, waiting till ' his head is 
wet with the dew, and his locks with the drops of the 


morning.' Tell Anna that Caroline G. and Sophia M. 
have both, I trust, consecrated their young affections to 
GolI. I received a visit from them the other day ; they 
are tine girls, and hid fair to he a blessing to their 
friends and to the world. Oh, how delightful to see the 
dear youth devoting themselves to the service of their 
heavenly Father. AVe have a number of such here, 
who have taken God at his word and have proved his 
promise true : ' Those that seek me early shall find me.' 
God's glorious work of saving souls is still progressing ^ 
both here and in the city. I understand there is quite 
a work of grace also in Sandw^ich. I think S. D. will 
enjoy it. After witnessing the good times here and in 
the cit}^, she almost dreaded to return to S. But the 
Lord has been better to her than her fears, and she is 
now rejoicing in the manifestation of his grace at home. 
May her dear brothers be partakers in this blessing. 

Mr. J. M , who visited us awhile ago, informed us 

of some very interesting cases. How is it with your 
dear girls ? and how with Susan N.? I do hope and 
pray that Mrs. N. may have the satisfaction of seeing 
Tier only dangJiter become a follower of tlie Lord Jesus 
Christ. I received a letter from Frances some time 
since, and send it for your perusal. I shall endeavor to 
have an answer ready to send by Theodore wdien he 

" When will you come up and make us a good visit? 
How is Mary's health ? I am anxious to hear. Give 

my love to all the girls, including M a. Have any 

of her children yet chosen the good part ? Do write 
and tell me how it is with them. I hope all the dear 
children in our families will become the children of 


God. Mr. Kirk is still preacliing in Boston ; lie is a 
most excellent preacher in every sense of tlie word, but 
no letter tlian our oivn dear minister after all. Mr. K. 
preaches every evening in the week except Wednesday 
and Friday. 

" How is your health, dear sister ? and how are you 

enjoying yourself? I often think how pleasant it would 

he could you all come in and spend the day with me. I 

hope if we live until summer we shall see you and 

enjoy some delightful visits together, ^wilnuikeno 

calculation upon any thing earthly in the future, not 

knowing what a day may bring forth. Death comes so 

sudden that we cannot call a moment ours but the 

'present ; and that is gone ere we can seize it. How it 

becomes us to be prepared for the final summons, come 

when or how it may. Oh, for that faith in Christ 

which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence 

of things not seen. This only can disarm death of its 

sting and the grave of its victory. We have but few 

patients in the house at present, and these not very 

sick. One little boy only thirteen died last week of 

typhus fever. He was very sick when he was brought 

here, and we could only learn that his mother was dead 

and his father far away. He had the best possible care ; 

every one pitied him ; but we could not save him, for 

his time had come. Poor little fellow ! He made his 

grave among strangers, but was not buried umvejyt. I 

often think when we are consigning the poor unknown 

sailor to his last resting-place, how touching is that 

eastern benediction, ' May you die among your kindred.' 

** Give my love to old lady Fessenden and husband, 


and Mrs. M. Eemembcr me affectionately to Theodore, 
and do write me soon. 

" Yours ever truly, 

'' Lydia B. Bacox.'^ 

To Mrs. H. B., of Sackett's Harbor. 

'' Chelsea, April 2d, 1842. 

" My very dear Sister Harriot : — I had indeed almost 
begun to think that you were very sick, on account of 
your long delay in answering my last letter. I had 
just concluded to write to Mrs. G-. C, thinking I might 
elicit an answer from her, and thus learn something of 
yourself and other dear friends at the Harbor. I used 
to hear most frequently from my dear Elizabeth B.; but 
I should think it is now nearly two years since I have 
received a letter from her. Indeed, she has written me 
but once since she visited me in Boston. Oh, how sweet 
is the remembrance of that visit. With my beloved 
Sabbath scholar and her dear husband we walked 
around my native city, visited the institutions at South 
Boston and trod the solemn walks of Mount Auburn. 
That visit was a sunny spot in my pilgrimage. What 
can be the reason that Elizabeth does not write me ? 
I cannot think she and her husband have forgotten me. 
Eemember me most affectionately to them. 

'' It was while pondering sadly upon the silence of 
dear friends at the Harbor that I received your letter, 
addressed in your husband^s well known hand. A 
quick glance at the red seal, (giving no indications of 
bereavement,) re-assured me, and breaking it open, I 
soon eagerly devoured its contents. As I read, how did 


scenes long past come up in review before me, mingled 
witli the image of dear ones now inhabiting mansions 
of eternal blessedness. My heart was grateful that you 
were still spared and in the enjoyment of so many 
blessings. I thank you for the joyful intelligence that 
if our lives are spared we may expect a visit from you 
this summer. Is it possible, dear Harriet, that you and 
I may meet once more tliis side of the eternal world ? 
May we once more mingle our prayers together, once 
more recount together the mercies of our heavenly 
Father, and go to the house of God again in company ? 
I will dare to hope for it, although this as well as all 
other events in the future must be left in liis hands who 
seeth the end from the beginning, and will do all things 
well. Should we be disappointed, oh may ' we meet at 
Jesus' feet to part no more !' 

" April QtJu My niece S — — B , who was born 

in the same chamber whore your beloved Harriet first 
saw the light, has been at Hartford this winter visiting 
my husband's sister, who married a Baptist minister 
and is settled in that place. After I learned that your 

dear Harriet was there at school, I requested S to 

call upon her and make her acquaintance. Last even- 
ing S returned, and I hope to see her ere I close 

this letter. We have now been in our present situation 
nearly a year. We find it quite pleasant, although 
surrounded by disease and death. For it is a satisfac- 
tion to see the poor, sick, weary sailor find a place of 
rest where the body and soul can both be cared for. 
Many of our patients are without friends ; some of them 
arc parentless; some have lost their mother while 
young, and were cast into the wide world without any 


preparation to meet the storms of vice and temptation 
wliicli assail the inexperienced mariner. We have had 
some most interesting cases of those who have died in 
the triumphs of faith, hlessing ns and praising God 
with their dying hrcath. Their memory is precious. 
One was a colored hrother-' who was here four months 
with consumption. He could not read, and was so 
thankful to any one who would read the Bible and 
other good books to him. I often went into his room 
txud read and talked with him, and never returned 
without feeling that I had been myself a learner. How 
delightful was it to witness his resignation to death, and 
his faith in his ' blessed Lord,' as he always called him. 
AYhen I see you I will tell you more about him and 

"I am glad to hear that your society is doing so well. 
The meeting-house must look much better for the new 
fixtures. Oh, that dear meeting-house ! how many 
happy hours have I passed in it. Aye, and in the little 
school-house too. How many important events in my 
experience are connected with it. There our little 
church was first gathered and the Sabbath school 
instituted, and there 2ve first covenanted to love and 
serve God. There too we listened to our dear pastor, 
Mr. Boyd, and other faithful servants of Christ, and 
mutually labored and studied in that precious Bible 

" Since we have been here an Orthodox Congrega- 
tional church and society have been formed, a chapel 
built, a minister settled, a Sabbath school, female 

* Brother Harris, spoken of in a former letter. 


prayer-mooting and maternal association formed, and a 
sewing circle established. All tins was accomplislied in 
six months, and the sewing-circle has paid for the 
carpet, lamps, table, chairs and curtains for the chapel. 
We liave had a blessed revival of religion this winter 
past ; it has been a glorioiis work both here and in the 
city. Sandwich also is sharing in such a blessing, and 
some of my own Sabbath scholars there are among the 
subjects. I do not teach a class in our church here, as 
I think my spare time on Sabbath ought to be employed 
in teaching the poor colored sailors in the Hospital 
They cannot even read for themselves, and they appear 
grateful for such instruction as I can bestow. I feel 
that my post is as truly 7nissionari/ ground as India or 
Africa. But I hope you will be soon able to judge for 
yourself. Husband joins me in love to you and your 
husband, and bids me say that nothing could give him 
more pleasure than to welcome you here. My dear 
mother is comfortable in her eighty-first year. 

'' April dth. I have seen my niece S B . 

She found your dear Harriet, who boards with an 
acquaintance of mine. S gives an interesting ac- 
count of their interview, and of the school examination 
at which she was present. Harriet has the name of a 
first-rate scholar. Adieu, dear sister, till we meet. 

*' Your own 

" L. B. Bacon.'^ 

To her Mother. 

" Chelsea, May 2d, 1842. 
" ^ly dear Mother : — You say that you have written 
me four letters to my one. It may be so, but just think 


hoiv very sliort your letters are, while mine lire as long 
as the Catecliisra. It troubles mj side to write as mucli 
as I would like to, and I have many cares, and constant 

interruptions. Mrs. H passed last week with me : 

ere she left, E came ; Saturday Mr, H arrived, 

and will take E home with him on Wednesday. It 

is a fortniolit since she came, and it would be verv 
pleasant for her and for us if she could stay a fortnight 
longer ; but I suppose she is wanted at home. I had a 
delightful visit from Mrs. H ; she is a charming wo- 
man. Sarah T. passed a night with us while her aunt 
was here. 

" 3fay 3(7. Last Sabbath was a most interesting day 
here. Seven were added to this church by letter, and 
thirty-two by profession, many of whom received bap- 
tism. A number of infants were also consecrated to 
God by believing parents. It was a goodly sight to 
see whole families dedicated to the Lord. A number of 
quite young people were received to our watch and care. 
Among them w^re two little girls : one nine and the 
ether fourteen, who, although young, gave such good 
evidence of a change of heart, and were so desirous to 
be joined to God's professing people that it was thought 
best to admit them. Our chapel was crowded on the 
occasion. Susan N. and Frances W. came over to the 
meeting. Both appeared deeply affected, although their 
feelino-s doubtless were verv different. One seemed to 
feel the necessity of repentance and faith ; the other 
washed to show hers by an open profession of the Lord 
Jesus Christ as her Saviour. Mr. Langworthy was very 
plain and affectionate in his address to the impenitent 
at the close of the services, and followed his remarks bv 


commending them to God in fervent prayer I think I 
never enjoyed a communion season better, never had 
clearer views of the love and preciousness of Christ. 
Surely all must be convinced of their individual duty to 
love and serve him who has died to redeem them. 

" One hundred and seventeen were added to Mr. 
Towne's church in the city. Among them was a young 
seaman, hopefully converted while in our Hospital, 
o o o ^f\[Q are much obliged for the plants you sent 
us. They are set out in fine order, and will be all the 
better coming from your garden. We shall have a 
beautiful garden this summer, Providence permitting. 
Josiah is very much and j)leasantly engaged in cultiva- 
ting the land belonging to the Hospital, of which there 
are ten acres. Every thing tells, because there has 
never been any improvement before. I received a long, 

good letter from , and rejoice with her that 

A has chosen that good part which shall never be 

taken away from her. Oh, that H also would be- 
come pious. Josiah sends love w^ith mine. 

" Your affectionate child, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

To the same. 

" Chelsea, Jem. 2oth, 1843. 
" My dear Mother : — It gives me great pleasure to 
hear you are so comfortably situated. Truly, you can 
say your last days are your best, and that not only in 
temporal but in spiritual things. I trust you are grow- 
ing in grace and in the knowledge of God your Saviour. 
This, it seems to me, you have great facilities for doing. 
True, you cannot hear the word of God preached, and 


tliis, I know, is a great deprivation ; but you have the 
Bible and many good books, with time and health to 
read them ; a quiet and pleasant room, a good fire, and 
leisure to indulge in your favorite pursuits ; and besides 
can enjoy the society of your children. Let us praise 
the Lord for all his goodness to you and to us. I saw 
sister Anna last week and had a very pleasant but short 
interview ; she has promised to pass a day with me 
soon. Our church and society have commenced to build 
a new meeting-house ; the little chapel which we built 
a year ago is full to overflowing, and the numbers which 
crowd to hear the gospel seem to cry ' Give us room.' 
So we have moved the chapel to the rear of the lot, 
where it will make us a very convenient vestry. Last 
Sabbath we had no meeting of our own on account of 
this removal, so we had to feed in our neighbors' 
pastures. I went to the 3f&thodists, and was fed with 
living bread. 

" Brother made us a very short visit ; I did not like 
it that we saw so little of him. And Hooker did not 

call at all, which I much regretted. His Aunt 

was hero, and wished much to see him. She spent two 
nights with me, and I enjoyed her visit much. I love 
to have her come ; slie seems like one of our own 
family. She went to the sewing-circle with me, and 
seemed to enjoy it. It was a pleasant and profitable 
occasion ; while most of us plied the busy needle, others 
took their turn in reading aloud, and our meeting was 
closed with singing and prayer. 

" Shall I give you a sketch of my engagements and 
employments for one week ? I commence with Sabbath 


morn. I atteiiclGcl public worship all clay ; visited and 
instructed my colored bible-class at intermission, and at 
six o'clock P. M. had public meeting in the Hospital for 
the house and sailors, and any neighbors who might 
drop in. These last are very interesting meetings, and 
fully attended. I enjoy them very much, liaving often 
wished that I could hear pious sailors talk and pray. 
We have some very pious and gifted sea-captains. 
Monday I visited the wards as usual ; at eleven o'clock 
Mrs. Nye and Susan came to pass the day v/ith me. At 
five P. M., just before they left for Boston, Miss D. came 
to spend the night. In the evening the young men's 
meeting was held here, on account of the disarrange- 
ment of our chapel. Tuesday morning I made some 

calls with S ; in the afternoon attended the female 

prayer-meeting, and in the evening went to the con- 
ference meeting. After this meeting was over, (it being 
early,) I called upon a sick friend. Wednesday morn- 
ing fixed S. D. off to the city ; at twelve Mrs. Hooker 
came, and went with us in the afternoon to South Bos- 
ton to attend Mr. Patton's ordination. Mr. Langworthy 
accompanied us. Mrs. H. was delighted to go ; she 
had been wishing for it, but never dreamed of having 
so favorable an opportunity. The services were of a 
high order : the weather was pleasant, and we went and 
returned in safety, the Lord preserving us. Thursday 
Mr. Cleveland came and held a meeting with the sailors, 
at which we were present. Afterward we went to the 
sewing-circle, where we spent the afternoon and evening. 
Friday morning I accompanied Mrs. Hooker to Boston, 
spent part of the day with sister Anna, and the remain- 
der, until five o'clock, with Mrs. Hall. Eeturned in 


season for the evening meeting, Avhicli, (on account of 
the cliapcl not being in a condition to receive us,) was 
held at our house. Our numbers have so increased that 
this meeting was obliged to be divided into three bands, 
and held at throe different places at the same hour. 
Satuiday Mrs. Hall came from the city and dined with 
me, after which I made several calls upon the sick and 
the stranger, and, returning in season for tea, spent the 
evening alone. Thus was my week employed, and this 
is a fair sample of my occupations, except that I have 
not added my daily visits to the wards, the superintend- 
ence of my household concerns, the care of my own 
rooms, and considerable sewino; and knittino\ 

" Methinks you will say, ' if Lydia accomplishes all 
this, she surely need not complain of infirmity.' Well, 
so it has been with me ever since I can remember: 
always just enough to do, and enough of something, (I 
know not what,) to impel me to do it. Tell sister Maria 
that a friend of hers, by the name of Manning, is my 
nearest neighbor. She is a very lovely woman, and has 
some sweet children. Mr. M. I have not yet seen 
They are professors of religion of the Baptist denomi- 
nation. We have exchanged calls, and Mrs. M. spoke 
very affectionately of sister. Maria will now have a 
double inducement to visit in Chelsea. Has she heard 
from tlie boys lately ? Please remember me with great 
kindness when you write to them. My love to you all, 
in which my dear husband heartily joins. 

" Dear mother, let us praise the Lord for all his 
goodness to such unworthy sinners as we are. And let 
us endeavor to fill up all our time, whether longer or 
shorter, in such a manner as to glorify him. Then 


shall we liavc at last tlio unspeakable Messedness of 
hearing him say, ' Well done, good and faithful servant ; 
enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.^ Good-bye. 
" Your affectionate child, 

" Lydia B. Bacon.^' 

The following letter is one of congratulation over 
the hopeful conversion of the dear child of one of her 
Sackett's Harbor friends. This was her little pet, the 
darlino; Hattie to whom she addressed some of her 
earliest letters after leaving Sackett's. 

To Mrs. H. B. 

''Fehruarij Uth, 1843. 

" My ever dear Sister Harriet : — I improve the first 
leisure moment at my command to tell you how truly I 
rejoice with you in the conversion of your darling child. 
When your dear husband was here he told me that ' he 
felt iliat Harriet ivould become a Christian.^ Is not our 
God a covenant-keeping God? How merciful, how full 
of compassion to his rebellious creatures. Blessed 
Master ! give us faith to believe thy promises. Oh, 
how can we ever doubt them when we realize the great- 
ness of thy love in sending thine only Son to die for 
sinners. * Lord, we believe : help thou our unbelief.' 
May we henceforth take thee at thy word, and plead 
thy promises with an earnestness which shall show the 
reality and the strength of our faith. 

" My dear friend, you have indeed been blessed in 
having your child after a few years' absence return to 
her home and immediately consecrate herself to her 
Saviour. This was all you could desire ; truly your cup 


runneth over with hlessings. And now may the little 
ones, (dear Frances^ orphans,) be grafted in to the blessed 
stock, and their infant voices join in hallelujahs ' to the 
Lamb that was slain.' Thus shall you be an unbroken 
family hereafter in the spirit land. Dear sister, shall 
Z ever be permitted to join the blessed choir above? 
Oh, for stronger evidence of my adoption ! May I find 
it in that habitual holiness of heart and those fervent 
desires for the salvation of others which can only 
proceed from a renewed heart. 

* There is a fountain filled v.ith blood, 
Dra-vATi from Immanuel's veins.' 

Oh, that I may be enabled constantly to apply to it 
that all my sins may be washed away. It does rejoice 
our hearts to hear the good news from the Harbor im- 
parted in your letter. We feel and ever shall a deep 
interest in that place. And this not only because it is 
your residence and that of other dear friends, but that 
there ive found an interest in the precious Saviour. Yes, 
after living nearly thirty years estranged from God, 
though enjoying his unnumbered blessings it was at the 
Harbor we had our eyes opened to see our lost condition, 
and grace given us to close in vvith the offers of salva- 
tion so freely made in the gospel. Can we ever then 
forget our spiritual birthplace ? Oh, no. We hope to 
hear tliat you have a more powerful revival than ever 
before known at the Harbor. 

*' Our church has been favored again with a few 

mercy drops ; may this be the precursor of a plentiful 

shower of divine grace. Oar dear minister continues to 

labor most faithfully. We have some anxious inquirers. 



Our cliapol is full to overflowing. We have commenced 
a new meeting-liouse on the site of the chapel, that 
havino' been removed to the rear of the lot, where it 
will stand for a vestry. The new house wdll not be 
done before next May or June. 

" To-day we have consigned to the tomb one of our 
patients, who died of consumption at the age of twenty- 
five. His hope I fear was on a wrong foundation. He 
was not vrilling to converse much with me, but I think 
he was a Universalist. 

" Our situation is in all respects about the same as 
when you were here. We have had an abundance of 
snow this winter, and it is now falling fast, giving ns a 
prospect of sleighing into March. Our city abounds in 
mental entertainments this winter: sermons, lectures, 
concerts and sights. But we seldom go over to them, 
having enough of both duties and recreations to occupy 
us at home. My mother is very comfortable this 
winter ; I received a letter from her a few days since, 
written with the vivacity of twenty-five. She retains 
her energies and faculties wonderfully. But I must 
reserve the rest of my paper for a few lines to your 
dear Harriet. May that peace which passeth all 
understanding be your present and eternal portion, is 
the prayer of '' Your grateful friend, 

'* L. B. Bacox.^' 

'* To Miss Harriet B :— It was indeed most deliivhtful. 

my dear child, to hear from yourself that you have 

given your youthful afl'cctions to the blessed Eedeemer. 

. May you be a whole-hearted Christian. Seek to know 

what duty is, and then perseveringly pursue it, without 


turning to tlie right liand or to the h^ft. Especially 
shape not your course hy that of other Ohrisiians, young 
or old; hut let your divine Master he your pattern, and 
follow others only as they follow Christ. This measuring 
ourselves hy and among ourselves is not wise. There is 
but one example in the universe which we may at all 
times safely follow, hut one being whom under all 
circumstances we may seek to please. My precious 
child keep this ever in mind, and always ask yourself, 
will my conduct please my God and Saviour, whom I 
desire to honor or obey? You have the advantage over 
many young converts in the counsel and example of 
Christian parents, able to watch over you. Although 
you are entwined with every fibre of their hearts, yet 
they vrould not allow any thing reprehensible in your 
conduct to pass unnoticed. I am persuaded they have 
your fullest confidence, and well they merit it. Let it 
be ever thus; keep your heart open to them on all 
occasions : it will be a shield to you from the tempta- 
tions of life of inestimable value. Be watchful, and 
watch unto prayer. It is the experience of all 
Christians that it requires great vratchfulness and con- 
stant supplications to keep a heart pure, and a conscience 
void of offence. Oh, may you be richly endued with 
the Holy Spirit ; seek his blessed influences, and you 
vvdll have a monitor that will not let you stray. 

'' Your education, my dear 3^oung friend, has been 
such as to prepare you for great usefulness. I shall 
expect to hear that you are engaging in every good 
word and work. May 3^ou in this be more eminent than 
all who have preceded you at the Harbor. While 
speaking thus my mind reverts to by-gone times, when 


with your beloved niotlicr and sisters and other 
Christian friends we endeavored in much weakness to 
do something for the upbuilding of the Redeemer's 
kingdom at the Harbor. Oh, that those who are now 
commencing the holy warfare against the powers of 
darkness may be more faithful than we were, and may 
find their labors crowned with abundant success. The 
great Head of the church can enable ' one to chase a 
thousand, and two to put ten thousand to flight.' I 
hope you will have the happiness to see your dear little 
nephew and niece give the dew of their youth to the 
friend of children. You will now feel, I hope, like 
pointing them to him who when on earth took little 
children in his arms and blessed them. Do not let the 
little girl go from you. If I mistake not, you are 
about the age of her mother at the time I left the 
Harbor, and she is about as old as you then were. Well 
do I remember the comfort which you then took with 
that older sister ; and now, dear Harriet, you can be 
the guide and companion of her little one, so early left 
motherless. She will look to you for a safe example ; 
oh, disappoint her not. May you be enabled in the 
great day of accounts to say of her and of many others 
redeemed by your influence, ' Lord, here am I and those 
whom thou hast given me.' Accept my warmest wishes 
and most fervent prayers that heaven's choicest bless- 
ings may rest upon you. 'Uncle Bacon' desires his 
kindest regards, and joins me in particular remem- 
brances to you all, and to other friends at the Harbor. 
Pray for Anna, that she also may feel the importance 
of securing the one thing needful. 

" Your aff'ectionate, 

"L. B. Bacon." 

Bioc.RApriY OF :mrs. lydia b. bacox. 189 

To lior Mother. 

''Avrjust lOtJi, 1843. 

" I am sorry, my Jear mother, that you \yere disap- 
pohited about seudiug the berries. Not howover so much 
on mt/ own accouut as on yours, for we can get plenty of 
them here. But you took so much trouble in procuring 
them for us, tliat I regret your disappointment. We 
had a delightful ride to Plymouth on our way home 
from Sandwich. We arrived at P. just in season for 
the boat. There was some swell upon the water, though 
it was not rough, and I felt a little like being sick ; but 
I lay down upon a settee and bore it as well as I could. 
As soon as we got to Boston light I began to feel better 
and roused myself to enjoy the scenery of Boston 
harbor, which is always very attractive to me. Vessels 
of various dimensions were coming and going, but we 
passed them all, as we were proceeding at the rate of 
twelve miles an hour and they six. We met the 
British steamer, bound to Liverpool ; it looked like 
some huge monster of the deep, smoking and hissing 
as if in a violent rao-e. Oar boat trembled as it fell 
into the steamer's wake. I do think one of those large 
steamships in full operation is a sublime sight. It 
certainly is calculated to impress the mind with a sense 
of the wisdom and power of God, for who but an 
infinite Being could endow man with such conceptions 
and skill as to enable him to invent, construct and 
control such vast machinery. These steamers are now 
on every sea, transporting not only those who are 
engaged in worldly pursuits, but those also who carry 
the glad news of the gospel to the heathen. We 
arrived at the wharf just about three o'clock, and soon 


found oiirselvcs in our little foriy steamer, and in a 
few minutes more were safely moored in our pleasant 

domicil. We found all well but Mrs. B r, wlio was 

suffering from an attack of cliolera morbus. It certain- 
ly calls for our warmest gratitude, dear mother, that we 
have been permitted to meet once more under such 
favorable circumstances, and that our journey to you 
and our return has been so safely and pleasantly 
accomplished. It is no slight thing to make a journey, 
long or short, without accident of any kind. 

" Tell sister that I found my boys professing great 
pleasure at seeing me home again. Williams, though 
more feeble in body than when I left him, now is, 
(spiritually,) clothed and in his right mind. I told him 
that you sent your regards to him and others. * God 
bless her,^ said he with all the w^armth of a sailor^s 
heart, * I never shall forget the tear she shed when she 
talked to me. That tear has followed me ever since, 
and I {1111x1:, I Icnoiu that she feels for the poor sailor.' 
It seems that he had a Roman Catholic mother, but one 
whom he believes to be truly pious notwithstanding her 
ignorance and superstition. He remembers weeping 
much on hearing her tell the story of the cross. She 
was (he says,) very particular to instruct her children, 
making them pray morning and evening. Though poor, 
she always dressed them clean, and made them go to 
church on Sabbath day. He is a Prussian, and to avoid 
being drafted as a soldier he left his home and went to sea. 
He has a decent education, and reads his Bible conside- 
rably. I cannot help thinking that a good work is 
begun in his heart, and trust it will be perfected. If 
so, what a brand will be plucked from the burning. 


Praj for liim. Naylor is as usual, and Aiulerson is 
bettor. They all send j'ou their thanks for your kind 
remembrance of them. A sailor is never ungrateful 
Antonio is here, but I have not seen him since my 
return. He was not in the wards when I went my 
round, and I have not happened to meet him elsewhere. 
I wish I had time to tell you of our good meeting in 
the chapel last evening, and also of my interview witli 
my poor colored brethren in their ward. 

" Now, dear mother, how do you do? I suppose you 
are all going on as usual. Sister Anna visits you every 
day, and the grand-children and great-grand-children 
to the third generation cluster around you. Oh, may 
they all be as olive plants in the vineyard of the Lord. 

" Eemember us affectionately to all friends ; we are 
much obliged to them for so many favors. 

*' Saturday/ Eve. Since writing the above we learn 

that our Hospital physician, Dr. , is removed, and 

Doctor L. appointed in his place. The latter is a young 
man from Andover, about thirty years of age, and was 
a pupil of Dr. Stedman while he was at this Hospital. 
We know not but we also shall be displaced. With 
assurances of love to all, I am 

*' Yours affectionately, 

*' Lydia." 

To her Mother. 

''December, 181:3. 

*' My dear Mother: — I know it is a long time since I 

have written you ; but could you see how much I have 

to occupy me, you would, I think, hold me somewhat 

excusable. I have come to the conclusion that there is 


no such tiling for me as an idle rnoment, althougli some- 
times I am almost inclined to wisli for one. Let our 
situation be what it may, I do not believe that either 
Josiah or myself shall ever be in danger of rusting. 
We shall, I suspect, always find enough to do. To-day 
the weather is most delightful, and husband has gone 
to Brighton on business. It would have been pleasant 
for me to go with him, and I should much have enjoyed 
the ride ; but I wished to write my dear mother to-day, 
and there is a sick man whom I ought to visit, so I 
decided to remain. My poor patient cannot live long, 
and as he is unable to read he likes to have me read 
the Bible to him. I have conversed with him to-day 
about his situation ; he seems quite reconciled to death, 
feels his dependence upon the Saviour, and trusts in 
him alone for salvation. He is gentle and quiet as a 
lamb, though suffering considerably. His disease is 
consumption. Poor fellow ! his rest will be sweet ; it 
is a consolation that there will be time enough to rest in 
heaven. That blessed world is often present to my 
view", and when inclined to relax my efforts in any good 
cause, I reflect were I there and could 1 grieve in heaven 
it would be that I have done so little good here. Ob, 
then 'let us work while the day lasts.' We have a 
colored man here who also is drawing near his end. He 
has been much exercised about his future state. His 
mind has been dark as his skin, but the light of the sun 
of righteousness has now dawned upon his soul, and we 
hope he will be prepared to meet the Lord at his coming. 
Oh, my mother, what a station has God in his provi- 
dence called us to fill. Its responsibilities are almost 
overwhelming, and we need, oh, how much, the prayers 


of our Christian friends. Let yours ascend constantly 
on our Lelialf 

" The boy ^^'llom I mentioned in a former letter, wlio 
was brought in ^\■itll the Savannah fever, is now 
convalescing. He is only fourteen years old. We have 
taken him from the ward and put him in the family, 
the doctor thinking that he would recover faster r"^ 
removed from among the sick, as he needed no medicine. 
Kate, [a niece of Mrs. B's,] and I are learning him to 
read, and are also making him some clothes, as he was 
very destitute. So you see we have plenty of variety 
in our labors. He is a gentle, docile child, with a very 
sweet face, and nothing bad or vile about him outwardly. 
He seems to think that sin is a hateful thing. We took 
him to meeting with us, and he never took his eyes 
from the minister during the whole sermon. In the 
evening I was conversing with him and trying to 
explain the fourth commandment, and he told me that 
' he had thought upon good things all the day.' He 
went with us to Sabbath school, and also attended our 
meeting at the house, so that his whole time was 
employed in religious services. But I thought few of 
us could say that our minds had been upon them all the 
time. The boy seems very grateful and affectionate, 
and interests me much. Still I try not to feel too 
sanguine respecting him, so that if he should prove un- 
worthy after he recovers and be a different boy from 
what he now seems, I should not be greatly disappointed. 
His father was a Frenchman, but is dead. His mother 
is German, and is now living in Baltimore. He is very 
fond of her, and I think she must be a decent woman, 
though probably ignorant. All the literary knowledge 


he has was acqiured in the Sahbath school. Had it not 
been for that precious institution he probably would not 
have known his letters. Dear Kate is much interested 
in him, and is quite a help to me hi teaching him to 
read, though herself a child. So you see, mother, that 
I have two children. At one time I am listening to lier 
notes on the piano, and next I am helping the little 
sailor boy spell his words of one syllable. Sometimes I 
leave him to try Katie's patience while I go and read 
the Bible to some poor sick one in the w^ards. Kate im- 
proves very much, and I enjoy her society exceedingly; 
she is very pleasant and obedient. She has gone to-day 
with her Uncle Bacon to Charlestown, to visit Abby G-. 
I thought it a good opportunity for her, as her uncle 
was going to Brighton, and could leave her at C. on his 
way over and call for her on his return. Francis, the 
invalid boy, has gone with them. I don't know which 
was the most delighted, the *big boy,' (as Susan N. 
used to call Josiah when they played at school together,) 
or the children. They were a happy trio, I assure you. 
'' Last evening a new^ benevolent society was organized 
in our village. It is composed of the benevolent from 
all denominations, and its object is to assist the poor in 
this inclement season, w^ithout respect to age, condition 
or color. IMr. Bacon presided at the formation of the 
society, and Mr. E. S. was Vice-President. Kate desires 
love to you all with husband and self. Tell Anna that 
I received the cape and like it. I have seen sister twice 
since I came from Sandwich ; once I dined with her. 
Next week being Christmas I shall expect Isabella and 

Mary to visit us. We dined at J 's Thanksgiving 

day, with their children and grand-children, and had a 
very pleasant time. 


"We liavo just received an invitation from sister A. 
to dine with tliem on Cliristmas day, which we shall 
accept, Providence permitting. We have just now re- 
turned from a temperance lecture in our village ; it was 
very good, and we trust the influence will be salutary, 
Ahby, should we all live and remain here, you must 
come up and stay with us during the anniversaries in 
May, unless it is more convenient for you to come later. 

*' Yours as ever, 

" L. B. Bacon." 

To the same. 

'' January 22d, 1844. 

" I am admonished, my dear mother, by the date 
above that I have not written you since the year com- 
menced. I am reminded of the goodness of God in 
sparing us another year, when we deserve to be ' cut 
do^Ti as cumberers of the ground.' Yes, ive are spared 
while on every breeze is borne the sad tidings that some 
one whom we knew and loved has gone to the spirit-land- 

" Last week we received a letter from Mrs. Boyd, who 
has been called to mourn the loss of another sweet 
child, a darling girl, I believe about nine years of age. 
Her letter also announces the sudden death of our dear 
friend and brother, Mr. Brewster of Sackett's Harbor. 
This will be a great loss to the church there, and to the 
"society also which is now struggling to replace their 
house of worship unfortunately burnt to the ground. 
But we must not question the ways of Providence. 
Brother B. lived to a good old age, and as a shock of 
corn fully ripe has been gathered to his fathers. How 
sweet is the remembrance of his kindness and brotherly 


affection to us. And liow pleasant the memory of liis 
visit here a year ago last October. How well I remem- 
ber the last time we knelt around the family altar, and 
the Last look as they took their departure. I felt then 
that I should never see him again in the flesh. We 
ought not to regret that he is now enjoy iug the presence 
of his Saviour. His dear companion has lost the friend 
of her bosom, but her gentle spirit is used to discipline, 
(having often borne the rod,) and will bow in humble 
submission to her Father's will. Mrs. Boyd likewise 
mentions the death of Ann Bridge, one of my Sabbath 
scholars at the Harbor. She was a very lovely girl. 
When a child she was one of the best I ever knew, and 
the only daughter of a mother who was a great invalid. 
I think Abby will remember the family. 

" Yesterday I heard that our dear Catharine P. is on 
her death-bed. I wish very much to see her once more, 
and should go over but I understand that she is so low 
they do not allow any company. I am told she is 
perfectly happy in view of death, and feels that the 
grim messenger comes with happy tidings, bidding her 
* enter into the joy of her Lord.' Well, her course of 
self-denying usefulness is over, and now she will under- 
stand the mystery of God's dealings with her, and with 
enraptured strains will chant the praises of redeeming 
love. How many of God's children whom she has 
comforted and ministered to will greet her in her new 
and blessed abode. And how many who but for her 
faithful instruction had never entered the pearly gates 
will at last rise up to call her blessed. Surely ' they 
who turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars 
forever and ever.' She will be a s:reat loss to her 


friends and to the cliurcli ; but the great Head of the 
church can raise uj) some one to fill her place, if he sees 
best to call her home. Oh, how admonitory are all 
these dispensations ! How loud the call to us, ' Be ye 
also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the Son 
of Man cometh.' 

*' Last week we buried two of Ocean^s sons, not where 
' the coral ' is tlieir ' pillow,' and ' the seaweed ' their 
' winding sheet,' but in the silent tomb prepared by man 
for their long home. Father Taylor attended the 
funeral, and was very good indeed; he has just returned 
from a long journey by sea and land for the recovery of 
his health. 

" We had a very pleasant time at South Boston last 
week, and wish you had been with us. Do you remem- 
ber the * little prisoners ' ? You would have thought 
yourself in company with noblemen's sons had you seen 
them last week. Keally there are some very talented boys 
among them. Capt. C. was in his ' valley of diamonds ' ; 
he is certainly a wonderful man. 

'^ Our dear pastor has been quite sick, and is still 
unable to preach. Had Mr. C, (your minister,) been 
here last Sabbath we should have persuaded him to fill 
the pulpit. I hope we shall have the pleasure of hearing 
him preach before he returns to Sandwich. Our boy 
Francis is improving in his reading. I wish, Abby, you 
were here to help teach him. I have sent him to school 
lately, and he has made good progress. But I must 
close. Kate joins me in love to dear grandmother and 
all our dear relatives. 

" Yours always, 

''LydiaB. Bacon." 



Mr. Brewster, of Sackett's Harbor, wliose death is 
mentioned by Mrs. Bacon in the foregoing letter to ber 
mother, was one of their dearest and best friends, tried 
and faithful in adversity as well as prosperity. His 
wife was the beloved and valued companion and friend 
so often addressed in these pages as * Sister Harriet.' 
The last epistle addressed to her was, (as the reader 
may remember,) one of most affectionate congratulation 
upon the hopeful conversion of her only daughter. How 
different the tenor of the following, written after the 
bereaving stroke had fallen so hea^vilj. 

To Mrs. H. B. 

" Qhekea, Jem. 23, 1844. 
" My dear afflicted Sister : — I have been wishing to 
WTite you for some weeks past, but have waited to find 
the moment when I could do so without interruption. 
I have just been perusing the last letter I received from 
you ere the hand of the Lord had written you a widow. 
How striking seemed the contrast as I read it and 
thought of your situation then and now. Then you 
had health in your habitation and peace in your dwell- 
ing-place, and your heart overflowed with gratitude to 
God for his kindness to you, and with sympathy for 
your neighbors less favored than yourself. Noiv death 
has entered your dwelling and taken the loved com- 
panion of your bosom, removing * the desire of your 
eyes ' with a stroke the severity of which none but 
yourself can fully estimate. My heart is full ; dearest 
Bister, what shall I say ? I need not point you to the 
promises so graciously and profusely scattered through 
the blessed Book, for they have been your solace in all 


your pilgrimage Intlicrto. I need not tell you that our 
Father is the widow's God aud Judge, nor remind you 
how tenderly he says to you, * Thy Maker is thy 
husband ; the Lord of Hosts is his name.' Nor need I 
assure you that he who wounds can heal ; you have had 
blessed experience of his mercy in many a previous 
trial. What strong consolation you have in this hour 
of your distress. Your loved one has fallen like the 
ripened sheaf. He had nothing to do but to die, and 
so, gathering himself in his bed, he pronounced his last 
blessing upon his weeping friends and then fell asleep 
in Jesus. My sweet sister, as you walked down with 
him into ' the valley of the shadow of death,' and 
followed him to the confines of eternity, did you not 
almost wish to go ivitli Mm over Jordan ? But no ; you 
have still ties to bind you here, and those dear children, 
(left you by a former bereaving Providence,) are com- 
mitted to your care to be trained for God and heaven. 
Oh, may your life be prolonged to finish this ' work of 
faith and labor of love.' 

" More than ever do I prize the privilege of that 
good visit received from you and our dear departed 
brother more than a year ago. How delightful is the 
recollection of our meeting ; how vivid the memory of 
our parting. I am sure we all felt that we should 
probably never meet again on earth. How much I 
have thought of his kindness to us, and of his Christian 
character generally. How he will be missed in the 
house of God, and in every thing that he used so much 
to delight in. But, blessed be God, with an eye of 
faith we can follow him bevond the vail, and there 


"behold him, freed from sin and unfettered with infirmi- 
ty, praising the grace that hath saved him. 

*' Dear sister, accept our sympathies. You know the 
bonds of long-tried friendship and Christian love which 
united us. We feel for you and your dear Harriet 
more than we can express. The latter will now have a 
double duty resting on her. As she has early devoted 
herself to her Saviour, may she have a double portion 
of his spirit and grace. You are blessed, my dear 
friend, in having your beloved only daughter a member 
of the household of faith. May those little ones, the 
dear offspring of the departed Frances, give their young 
hearts to Jesus, and consecrate to him the dew of their 
youth ; and thus be early adopted into his blessed 

" Do write us soon, dear sister, and tell us, if you can, 
more particularly of the closing scene of our lamented 
brother. Oh ! that we could meet and mingle our tears 
together : we would only mourn our loss, for he is an 
infinite gainer and needs no sympathy. 

" I have just received a letter from Mrs. Boyd. A 
few lines from him at the close announced the birth of 
another daughter. They, too, have been bereaved, and 
his health is very precarious, as, no doubt you know. 
May they have grace given them to bear all their 
Father's will. You express the hope in your letter that 
we are exempt from all ill. AVe have not at least been 
free from apprehensions ; as we have had reason to fear 
we might be removed from our position. Our physician 
was displaced, and wo could hardly expect to be more 
favored. But a kind Providence placed us here, and 
has hitherto sustained us : aud we feel that we are in 


his hands. Should lie see fit to remove iis he uill ; and 
no one else can do it If we are obliged to leave, it will 
doubtless be for the best. At present, our situation, 
though not without its cares and trials, seems desirable 
to us both. I have never allowed myself to call it 
Jiome, both on account of the uncertainty whether we 
should be permitted to remain here, and the certainty 
that ere long we must part with all things earthly. 
How consolino' the assurance that Christ has o'one to 
prepare a place for us above. We have much to 
encourage us in our labors ; many interesting cases 
anion 2: the sons of the ocean are occurrino; to cheer us 
on in our efforts to do good to the soul as well as the 
body. TVe have a little boy with us only fourteen years 
old. He was born in France, but went to the West 
Indies where he took a fever ; and the vessel in which 
he was, coming to Boston, he was brought to the Hos- 
pital. He ' was sick nigh unto death,' but has recovered. 
He has no relations in this country but a mother ; she 
is very poor and a Catholic. He could not read ; and 
as he is not yet fit to send away, we are trying to teach 
him. He is very affectionate and obedient, and improves 
fast. I know not what to think of his religious cliar- 
acter. He professes to love Christ, and says that he 
always did ; he also says that lie always loved to pray, 
and feared to do wrong. Time will prove the sincerity 
of his professions. ^ ^ * ^ ^ We lay no plans 
for ourselves not even for the morrow ; as we know not 
what a day may bring forth. I feel that life is pecu- 
liarly uncertain with me. I am troubled with a 
ccmj^hint of the heart which has been more or less 
obvious for the past two years. I did not tell you of it 


when you were liere, tliinking it miglit disturb your 
enjoyment. I consider myself more tlian usually liable 
to sudden deatb : pray for me, my dear sister, that I 
may be ready whenever my Divine Master calls. I 
visited my dear mother in August. She still enjoys 
good health for such advanced age. She felt delighted 
that you had visited me, and it would have given her 
great pleasure to see you herself. I have a niece, a 
daughter of my brother William, staying with me this 
winter and attending to music. I enjoy her society 
much. Accept our united love for yourself and dear 
ones : we commend you all to God and to the word of 
his grace. Should we meet no more on earth, may we 
be all found at the right hand of the Judge. 
'• Your affectionate sister, 

*' L. B. Bacon." 

To her Mother. 

''March 8th, 1844. 
*' My dear Mother : — I thank you and Abby for the 
few lines received by the Packet. I can sympathize 
with you as it respects the distress in your head ; for 
mine has been similarly aflected for two weeks past. 
It has been dreadful to bear ; but with you I can say 
that I desire to submit to the will of God. Cheerful 
submission I believe to be the best cure for all earthly 
troubles. And what a motive is there for submission 
when we reflect how little we deserve auo;ht but suffering;. 
Oh let us bear patiently all God's afflictive providences ; 
for does not our heavenly Father know what is best for 
us ? And after such a long experience of his goodness 
as you and I have had, cannot we trust him for the 


future ? Altliougli mine lias Lecn a clieckercd scene, 
yet how many, many mercies have been strewed in my 
path. AVhen I look Lack on the fifty-seven years spent 
in this frail tahernacle, I am filled with wonder and 
astonishment at the goodness of God to one so unworthy. 
Especially do I feel called upon to admire his conde- 
scension in placing me in situations where I could be 
greatly useful in his vineyard. You, my dear mother, 
are pleasantly and peacefully situated, where you can 
have time calmly to prepare for your last change. That 
great change must shortly come. You may, it is true, 
outlive your children ; but we are all growing old ; a 
few more years, months, or days, and ' the places that 
now know us will know us no more forever.' It will 
make but little difference then whether our life was 
long or short, our pains many or few. The only ques- 
tions of importance will be, * did we believe on the Lord 
Jesus Christ, and did our faith show itself in corres- 
ponding works?' 

" Is it not astonishing, dear mother, that we trust to 
finite things for happiness so much and neglect the 
infinite Being, who is the source of all true bliss. Oh ! 
let us ever cherish that soul-satisfying feeling, that God 
doeth all things well. Let us remember that his ways, 
though now dark to our finite minds, will all be cleared 
up when the sunbeams of eternity shall fully reveal his 
goodness in his mysterious dealings witli us. Oh ! it is 
sweet to rest with the confidence of children upon that 
divine word which assures us that all things ^hall work 
for good to those that love him. It is, as you justly 
observe, a great blessing that we are able to walk about 
and take care of ourselves, although in much infirmity. 


Perhaps you have read of the poor sufferer at Salem 
with a diseased spine. She has been confined to her 
"bed for many years, enduring the most violent spasms. 
These distort her head and limbs, putting them in 
unnatural and painful positions in which they remain 
until a succeeding spasm changes them. She is a 
perfect wonder : and amid all this protracted suffering 
and torture, her mind is stayed on God, and she has sweet 
communion with her Saviour. I have just been reading 
in the Puritan (a new religious paper which I shall send 
you instead of the Eecorder,) a very full and particular 
account of the dreadful accident at Washington. I do 
hope that our nation will be admonished by the blow 
which has fallen upon those who wear its dignities and 
sit in its places of trust and power. 

'' Our lovely friend, Mrs. L , who went as Mis- 
sionary to the Nestorians, has taken an early flight to 
the spirit-land, and is, doubtless, at rest in her Saviour's 
bosom. But eighteen months ago, we v\'ere all busy 
helping her prepare for the work on which her heart was 
set : but the God of missions has taken her to brio-hter 
realms. She had the cholera, which weakened her 
exceedingly ; and after the birth of a dead infant, she 
sank immediately into the arms of death.' She was 
perfectly happy, and sweetly resigned to her heavenly 
Father's will. Hers was a very perfect character ; I 
loved her much, and so did every one who knew her. 

" You remind me, sister A., that we are to go to 
Mount Auburn if we live till you come up. I have not 
forgotten it : when will you come ? The birds are 
singing to-day ; soon all nature will wake to life and 
renew its beauties. Yours always, 

" L. B. Bacox.'^ 


To her Mother. 

"Jimem, 1844. 

" I suppose my dear motlier begins to tliiiik it is 
about time to have a letter from Ljclia ; and as brother 
and sister will leave for Sand\Yicb in a day or two, I 
will have a page or two filled to send by tliem. I was 
very glad that sister came up to the Anniversaries. It 
was very pleasant to me to see her, and I think she 
enjoyed the meetings, although of course it was very 
fatiguing to her to attend them. She has taken some 
cold w^hich affected her head ver}^ unpleasantly ; but she 
is now better. I did not go to every meeting ; for it is 
more than a frail mortal can bear to attend them all. 
Besides, I am commanded by the doctor to avoid excite- 
ment, and to exercise very moderately. The meetings 
have been very interesting this spring ; the Seamen's 
Friend Society in particular. I presume you have read 
an account of them in the Eecorder. It is wonderful to 
see the multitude of people who attend these meetings. 
Several were held in different places at the same hour ; 
and each was filled to overflowing. Old Mrs. F. is with 
her son ; she went over to the Anniversaries one day. 
She enjoyed the meetings, but the noise and excitement 
were too much for her. I attended on four days, 
although I was not able to remain entirely through 
each day. My head and heart trouble me ; and some 
of the time I was excessively fatigued ; but I cannot 
bear to give up as long as I can go ; there is so much 
to interest and instruct. 

" I saw Mrs. Hooker at the meetings ; but she had 
no time to visit Chelsea, as she had to return to Brain- 
tree on Friday. Her mother is very feeble, being now 


ninety years of age. Soon slie must put off tliis earthly 
tabernacle, and enter anotlicr, I trust a brighter world. 
Mrs. H. was very well and very desirous to see you all. 
I think she will come to Sandwich this summer. I 
met her at the morning prayer meeting which was held 
at Park street church ; and at the close of the meeting 
we went together to a mutual friend's in Colonnade 
Row, opposite the Mall. This was on Thursday, the 
day of the great Temperance Celebration, and we had 
quite a 'tete-a-tete,' though in the midst of a crowd. 
The concourse of people in the streets was immense. 
The constant hum of human voices, the trampling of 
horses, the rolling of wheels, and the shouting of a 
multitude of boys were enough to confuse and deafen 
any one whose head was not made of iron. It was 
interesting to see so many of our youth assembled on 
this occasion. Whole families came in from the country, 
and took up their abode upon the common for the day ; 
resting in groups upon the grass which never looked 
more beautiful. There they stayed, eating and drinking 
and caring for their little ones, and all seemed the 
happiest of the happy. The day was beautiful ; it could 
not have been more so. The air was just cool enough ; 
and it seemed as if Providence smiled on the occasion. 
Stagings were erected upon diflPerent parts of the com- 
mon, and speakers upon each platform were advocating 
temperance at the top of their lungs. It was a sight 
altogether novel for the ' city of notions ; ' but never 
was there a more glorious one since tlie day that the 
British troops evacuated the city. The eye of the 
friends of virtue and order could rest on this spectacle 
with pleasure : for with cold water for its foundation no 


melanclioly consequences could be expected. Tliero 
were booths around the outside of tbe common filled 
with an abundance of edibles ; and tea and coffee were 
supplied to those who wished to drink something 
strono'cr than water. I was amused with the siirht of 
several boys who held a boiled lobster in one liand and 
an orange in the other, and seemed to enjoy both 

" I am sorry, dear mother, to hear that you are not 
so well as usual ; I hope that you will be better soon. 
The older we grow, of course we shall feel our infirmi- 
ties the more ; and the time must come when we shall 
be called to quit these tabernacles of clay. Then, if we 
are Christ^s we shall go where there will be no more 
sickness and pain, and no more death. Oh, may we 
each be ready for our summons when it shall come. 
Dear mother, I trust that your lamp is trimmed and 
burning and you waiting to enter into the joy of your 
Lord. Oh for more faith ! This is what we need ; then 
should we live near to God ; maintaining a constant 
communion with him, and beholding his divine attri- 
butes with joy, vronder and praise. I do have glimpses 
of this blessedness ; yet oh, how transient they are. I 
wish I could find words to express what I would say on 
this subject. Pray for your child, dearest mother ; that 
her faith and love may be increased ; and her hope sure 
and steadfast like an anchor to the soul. 

" Brother and sister have gone to pass the day with 
sister Anna, and I shall join them there in the after- 
noon. The omnibus will take me up at my own door 
and land me at Anna's. 

" I suppose the country looks beautifully now and 


that Sandwich is in its summer glory. I often think 
while contemplating the works of nature, if this world 
is so heautiful with so much to mar its loveliness, what 
must be the glories of the better land. There no sin 
can stain or sorrow blight ; and the light of the sun 
and moon which here are so necessary to our being will 
be wholly superseded by the bright shining of the Sun 
of Eighteousness. Oh for a home in that heavenly 
city ! 

O C- -<.♦ ■'.>- O '•Jp 

" I desire to see you very much, and hope I may be 
able to visit you in July. I shall try to be with you 
over the ' Fourth ' if possible. With love to all inquiring 

** I am your affectionate child, 

" Ltdia." 

To the same. 

Avgust IStJi, 1844. 
" My dear Mother, — I hasten to improve the first 
moment of leisure since my return, to inform you of my 
safe arrival home. What a blessing to be carried out 
and brought back in safety. ' The Lord is my keeper.' 
More than ever before, I think I have realized this in 
my visit to Sandwich at this time. The morning I left 
you, my heart was full, and yet I dared not give vent 
to my feelings both on your account and my own. I 
am obliged to avoid excitement as much as possible ; 
and it is religion as well as philosophy to endure 
patiently what we cannot cure. The morning of our 
journey home was most delightful. There was a fine 
breeze, a nice stage coach, the roads were good and vre 


liad but one fell )W passenger. This was a gentleman 
by the name of Parker, a Baptist brother, and a very 
good man : he was acquainted with father Bacon and 
wife. The ride was very pleasant with the exception 
of a little dust ; and when wc reached Plymouth, 
although the boat was just coming in, we concluded to 
continue on in the stage. Eemembering that I was 
troubled with sea-sickness in coming up by the boat last 
summer, I concluded this time to prefer earth to water 
and liorses to steam. But I was not very wise. At the 
hotel where the stage usually stops for dinner, they 
provide no dinner on boat days ; as most of the passen- 
gers prefer the boat. So we dined on berries and milk 
with a cup of weak tea ; and our repast being soon 
ended we resumed our journey. At Weymouth, we 
took in several additional passengers, but not so many 
as to make it disagreeable. The dust however soon 
increased until it was tremendous, and nearly choked 
us. Still I tried to enjoy the ride as much as possible. 
The country never looked more beautiful. The trees 
were loaded with fruit ; and the fields were covered with 
every thing necessary for the sustenance of man and 
beast. All showed the goodness of our heavenly 
Pather in supplying the wants of his dependent crea- 
tures. Oh that men might be sensible from whom all 
their blessings flow ; and render the praise and grati- 
tude which is his due. 

"About five in the afternoon, I was landed in Boston 
at Chelsea omnibus office. But the coach had just gone. 
So I left my name with instructions for them to call 
for me at No. 2 Derne street, and walked up School 
street, where I accomplished some errands, thus saving 


the necessity of another jaunt to the city on purpose. 
At sister S's I washed and dusted myself, and partook 
of some refreshments. After which I waited in vain 
for the omnihus to call ; and at length ascertained that 
having a full load they had left me. So meeting my 
hushand, I walked with him to the ferry ; and by the 
time I reached home was exceedingly fatigued. I found 
all well ; and nothing unfortunate had occurred daring 
my absence. 

*' Mrs. Foster had called, and also Mrs. Swain from 
New Bedford. The latter told my hushand that Eliza- 
beth was going to Sandwich ; so I suppose she is with 
you now. Yesterday the Collector visited us with Capt. 
Sturgis and the Postmaster. He seemed very much 
pleased with the appearance of things, though he could 
make no comparison in our favor, having never been at 
the Hospital before. He thought however, that the 
garden must be a very great improvement to the pros- 
pect in front. The Collector is a fine looking man and 
very pleasant in his manners. 

*' I do not feel well to-day, and am constantly re- 
minded how short may be my stay on earth. Mother, 
do remember your child in your prayers. How fleeting 
is time ! My life in the retrospect seems like a series 
of dreams. First from childhood to youth; then to 
womanhood ; next in the army ; afterward at Sackett's 
Harbor ; then at Sandwich ; and now in Chelsea. In 
all these periods how the goodness and mercy of God 
has encompassed me and provided for me. ' AVhat shall 
I render unto the Lord for all his benefits?' The 
summer is nearly gone. I hope, should we all live till 
next month and your healtli permits Abby to leave, 


that wc sliall have a good visit from licr. Remcm'ber 
us to all friends, especially to Lrotlier and fiimily, and 
to Maria and hers. Good-bye, dear mother. 
" From yours ever, 

'' Lydia B. Bacon/^ 

To Mrs. B., of Sackett's Harbor. 

'' Septemher M, 1844. 

" I suppose that ere this our dear Harriet has 
returned to her peaceful home and to the embrace of her 
best of mothers. We were delighted on receiving your 
letter informing us of her intended call on us, and Tve 
awaited her arrival most eagerly. We enjoyed it very 
much ; but its brevity, and her engagements with her 
party, together with mine to our sewing-circle, (which 
met at our house on Wednesday,) prevented me from 
paying her such attentions as I wished to render. I 
hope she enjoyed her little visit, notwithstanding these 
drawbacks. It was very s^'eet to me to have the 
privilege of once more beholding the beloved child of 
my dear and tried friend. What a blessing she is to 
you. You are lonely, I know, at times ; but how much 
more desolate would be your widowed heart had you not 
this treasure left as a companion and solace in your 
bereavement. Oh, that she may be spared to comfort 
and support your declining years. 

" I hope, should our lives be spared, that we may 
meet again, either here or at the Harbor, though here- 
tofore it has seemed hardly possible. Be that as it may, 
there is a laiid where we shall meet to part no more ; 
there we shall delio-ht to recount the wonderful dealings 


of our lieavenly Father witli us in this pilgrimage state ; 
there ^ve shall worship our God and Eedeemer vrithout 
the encunihrances which now hurden us, and — oh, de- 
lio'htful thouo'ht ! — ivitliout sin. 

" S'pt 4,th. Tliis is one of the most delightful after- 
noons that you can possihly imagine. The air is bland 
and sweet, and all nature smiles, renewing the evidence 
of the goodness of its divine Creator. I am seated 
near the window of our front chamber ; the tide is full, 
and the steamboat with untiring speed is conveying its 
living freight across the ferry. Some are hieing to the 
city, to pursue their business or pleasure ; others are 
flying from its crowded and dusty thoroughfares to 
inhale the pure air and enjoy the comparative quiet of 
Chelsea. Many small boats are upon the river, spread- 
ing their white sails to the gentle breeze which moves 
them on as if by magic. As I cast my eye over the 
whole scene, which includes our good city, with its State- 
house dome, Bunker Hill, vrith its proud monument, 
and the busy town in the midst of which it rears its 
lofty head, the river, with our own beautiful garden 
sloping almost to its banks, my heart overflows with 
delight, and I wish that you were here to enjoy it with 
me. I was very much gratified in seeing S. and his 
wife. He reminds me of his dear mother, to whom I 
shall ever feel much indebted. Not only do I owe her 
much useful knowledge, but also the stimulus which 
her example afforded me to improve the talents for 
doing good committed to me by our heavenly Father. 
Although I was often a dull scholar, yet I think I did 
feel a desire to do my duty. As these and many other 
things connected with my acquaintance with the differ- 


ent brandies of your dciir family come up in review be- 
fore me, tlie tbougbt that so many of these loved friends 
are gone to return no more fills me with sadness. I 
cannot forget old friends ; the recollection of their 
virtues and of their many kindnesses to one so unworthy 
as myself will never leave me. May all these reflec- 
tions and enjoyments be so sanctified to me that I may 
be led to glorify God in all I do, or say, or think. 

" I visited, my dear aged mother and found her com- 
fortable considering her years, which now number four 
score and four. When I left her I could not help feel- 
ing as I pressed her to my heart that it might be our 
last embrace, for I consider my life as uncertain as hers, 
though not from the same cause. My sister J. was also 
at Sandwich with her family. So my mother had all 
her children and grand-children once more around her. 

" Our house is now very full of patients, but we have 
none distressingly sick. Indeed, we have been highly 
favored in having little severe illness or death for the 
last six months. My dear Josiali sends his kindest 
regards to you and Harriet, with many wishes for your 
present and future good. Adieu, my much loved sister. 
May heaven's richest blessings ever attend you, is the 
prayer of 

" Your affectionate, 

" L. B. Bacox.^' 

The following brief letter to her sister, Mrs. T., gives 
a lively description of some of her occupations and en- 
joyments. The compiler of these pages can well appre- 
ciate the allusions to the fine melons with which Mrs- 
B's company were entertained, having been often invited 


with otlier friends to a melon feast at lier table. Tliose 
wliicli were raised by Mr. Bacon I never saw excelled in 
size or flavor. 

'' Chelsea, October, 1844 
'^ I suppose mj dear sister is by tbis time safe at 
bome, congratulating berself tbat sbe bas sucb a quiet 
abode, and thankful tbat sbe is not in Lydia's place. 
Well, it is a great blessing to know when we are well 
off, and I am glad tbat you are one of the wise ones. 

" We bad a tremendous blow last night, and the 
weather is very unpleasant to-day. But I shall not 
mourn about it, since it prevents me from going out or 
from receiving company, and thus affords me the oppor- 
tunity which I much desired of writing to you. Shall 
I tell you some of my occupations and engagements 
since you left? I commence with the morning of your 
departure. As the omnibus rolled from the door, bear- 
ing away my precious A , I fled to Miss Cheney's 

kitchen. There, amid the fumes of pepper and vinegar, 
boiling hot, (which were preparing to pickle the dear 
little cucumbers that I showed you,) I endeavored to 
drive away any lurking sensitiveness which would unfit 
me for the duties I had to do. I made one kettle full 
of tlie aforesaid spicy mixture, and was preparing 

another when Mrs. T., with Capt. G and wife, was 

announced. Well, I walked up stairs, although looking, 
(as far as outward habiliments were concerned,) like 
any thing but a lady, and making no apologies I gave 
my friends a cordial greeting. After which, (of course,) 
I retired to make myself more presentable, and enjoj^ed 
their unexpected visit very much. Dinner was served 


up in Haniiali's best stylo, with plenty of melons for 

" 111 tlie evening Mr. Langwortliy came -witli liis 
wife's sister and Dr. F. and wife : so we liad anotlier 
melon feast, which all seemed to enjoy verj much. 
Since then I have had a constant succession of company. 
Dr. L. was with us a fortnight, and of course we had 
his friends occasionally. A friend of Dr. D. came and 

passed a night, and Mrs. W was here tlie same 

day. Mrs. Lord also, with D and her daughter, 

came to spend the afternoon, and the omnibus failing 
to call for them, they were obliged to spend the night. 
A day or two since I went into the kitchen to make 
another attempt at pickling cucumbers ; but it ended 
as before in getting myself into ' a pickle.' For Mrs. 

W s, whose visit had been long promised, called to 

pass the day with me, and just as we were going in to 
dinner Capt. B's daughter was announced. In addition 
to this our sewing-circle met in the afternoon, and as I 
have the honor and the task of presiding I could not 
omit attendance. So I went, and took the ladies with 

" Yesterday I visited all the wards, (containing 
eighty persons,) and conversed with each soul. Among 
them I found some cases of much interest. One was a 
Christian in the blessed enjoyment of religion. Another 
was a backslider awakened and desirous of returning 
to duty. He discarded his old hope, and seemed 
humbly seeking the face and favor of God. I said 
what seemed proper for his case, and commended him to 
Him who heareth prayer. Do you remember B , 


the mail that I told you was so irritable the first time 
I saw him ? Last evening he came into my room and 
"beo'ffed to converse with me. He referred to what he 
said at tliat first interview, and besought me to forgive 
him for his rudeness. He then told me that he felt 
himself to be a great sinner ; that he had ere this had 
strong convictions of sin, and the Holy Spirit had 
striven with him when tossed upon the ocean waves. 
He said that he had grieved away this blessed Spirit, 
and having sinned against so much light he feared that 
his day of grace was past. He had been piously 
educated, but at the age of sixteen had broken loose 
from home and friends and went to sea. He wept 
much while talking, and said it seemed as if his heart 
would break. I tried to lead him to the sinner's friend. 
But oh, ' who is sufficient for these things ?' Pray for 
your poor sister, 

"LydiaB. Bacoi^." 

To her Mother. 

*' Chelsea, Nov. 19, 1844. 
" Well, my dear mother, I suppose you have amused 
yourself a little as usual, in watching tJic election. The 

important day is past ; and Mr. P is to be our next 

President. AVhat the consequences will be, time alone 
will determine. Should Texas be annexed, I fear the 
chains of the poor slave will be riveted more strongly 
than ever. We have no children to be affected by bad 
legislation, but I trust we are imtriots and feel a deep 
concern for the weal and honor of our country. And I 
hope that we have benevolence enough to feel for 
suffering humanity everywhere. One fact does console 


me tlirougli all clianges, Avlietlier prosperous or adverse, 
* The Lord reignetli.' He can bring order out of con- 
fusion ; and can cause the present disappointment to 
result in the best good of his people and the triumph of 
his cause. Let us trust his overrulino; hand. 

" We were very sorry, dear mother, to hear that you 
had been so unwell ; and it was quite a relief to us t" 
see your hand-writing once more. Thus are you spared 
from time to time, to serve your Maker a little longer ; 
to put up a few more prayers for your children, your 
friends, and a dying world ; and so to grow in grace 
that you may be meetened and prepared for your 
heavenly inheritance. Mr. Barnes, the young man 
whom I mentioned in my last letter to Sister Abby, 
has left the Hospital and gone to sea. I trust he is a 
new man in Christ Jesus ; he seems to be deeply in 
earnest. He belongs to a good family, has pious parents 
and sisters, and is very intelligent and of pleasing 
manners. He says that every thing connected with the 
Hospital will ever be pleasantly associated in his mind. 
When I first conversed with him upon serious things, he 
was very unpleasant to me. But he was soon convinced 
of his sins, and came with tears to ask my forgiveness 
and prayers. When he saw his guilt in the light of 
God's truth, the sight was almost too much for him. 
Oh, how deeply I felt my insufficiency to guide his 
anxious soul to Jesus. I could only pray, ' Lord, open 
the eyes of this young man that he may see ' ' the 
Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world.' 
I was overwhelmed with a remark made to me the other 
day, by Kev. Mr. Springer. Said he, ' you need much 
'personal inety, Mrs. Bacon, to qualify you for your duties 



here.^ My hearfc responded, 'yes, I do indeed,' and 
conscience loudly reproached me witli my deficiency. 
Oh, for more grace and strength to overcome the world 
without, and the easily besetting sins within. 

" But to return to my young sailor friend. He has 
written to his parents while here and has had beautiful 
letters from them. Never shall I forget the animation 
and love which beamed from his countenance, as he 
brought in one for me to read. With eagerness he 
unfolded it and displaying its full pages, exultingly 
said, ' see, see ; this is a letter from 7111/ dear mother ! ' 
Then turning it over to show me that every part was 
closely written, ' how full it is,^ he said, and the tears 
mingled with the smiles. Oh, could Christian mothers 
realize as I did then, the hold which their instructions, 
and prayers, and tender love have upon their offspring, 
they would never despair. I hope Barnes may be 
strengthened to resist temptation and lead a godly life. 
Dear mother, when you pray for the sailor, oh, remem- 
ber Jiim, We have a little French boy from Paris with 
us. He amuses me often with his imperfect English. 
He came to my room a few days since, to beg a needle 
and some thread. ' Ma'am,' said he, ' nofer boy want 
some needle and tread ; but he shame to come ask it. 
I tell him, he no need shame or fraid ; for you is de 
best woman I see since I come to 'Merica.' I replied 
that ' he had not seen mani/ then.' ' Oh, yes, ma'am, 
I have,' was his quick response ; ' but I never see one 
dat give me every ting I ask for.' I gave him the 
needles and thread, a bag to put clothes in, a piece of 
paper to draw a vessel on, and some ' ginger ubber,' as 
he calls it, to rub out his pencil marks, and thus 


added to liis feelings and expressions of gratitude and 
obligation. He lias the fever and ague often, and 
amuses me with his description of it. * It very bad, 
ma'am ; it catch me right in de legs, and come up in de 
back and into de stomach, and make me shake so,' suit- 
ing the action to the word like any Frenchman. It is 
sometimes hard work to keep my countenance while 
talking with him. He has a very honest, open face and 
soft dark eyes. I cannot but feel greatly interested for 

" I cannot write more at present. Josiah joins me in 

a kiss of affectionate regard. Love to A and all 

friends. Your affectionate child, 

" L. B. Bacon." 

To the same. 

''December 18, 1844. 

*' My dear Mother : — The date of this letter reminds 

me that another year of my unprofitable life is drawing 

to a close. Every day seems to glide away with more 

rapidity than the preceding ; and this fact admonishes 

me that with me, time will soon be gone forever. Oh, 

how important that I so improve each passing hour as to 


* Some good account at last.' 

My responsibilities are great ; and I need much grace 
to enable me to discharge them aright. May He who 
for wise reasons has placed me in this sphere, give me 
strength equal to my day. 

I received a few lines from you by sister Anna, and 
was rejoiced to find you were so comfortable. It is a 


great favor to be able to v^ait upon one's self, even if 
our friends are ready and willing to care for us. Sister 
A. came to see us last Monday week. We were not 
interrupted by calls, and had the day all to ourselves. 
I enjoyed it very luucb and I believe she did, too. Last 
Monday I was at her house, but could only stay for a 
short call, and did not see her. I go to Boston but about 

once in three weeks ; and sister A has so many 

engagements that she cannot come here very often ; so 
we do not see each other as frequently as I could wish. 
But it is a comfort to know that she is where I can see 
her when I go to the city. They had just received a 

letter from J ,"' which relieved their anxieties. His 

letter must have been retarded by some means on the 
way. He wrote that he was expecting his wife in the 
vessel with Mr. Eiehards. He will be sadly disappointed 
at not seeing her ; as he is now at house-keeping. His 
situation and prospects are good ; and he wants nothing 
but his family to make him as happy as he could ask. 
I was thinking when I heard from him, how often I had 
wished that some of the dear children of our families 
might become missionaries. This is not yet granted. 
But in another way, one of tliem has been stationed 
among those who are just emerging from heathenism; 
and I trust in many important respects he will be useful 
there. He continues to speak with warm affection of 
Dr. Judd and wife ; and it does give me much pleasure 
that he has such friends there, who beside their attach- 
ment to him, are so able to counsel and advise him. 
How does this carry me back to the childhood of both 

* A nephew of Mrs. Bacon's, at the Sandwich Islands, 


Mrs. Judd and our J ; and in connection witli my 

relations to botli, liow strange does tlieir present meeting 
seem in another quarter of the gdobe. Little did I 
think tliat the affectionate little girl who smootlied my 
pillow when I was sick and weary at Sackett's Harbor, 
and did all she could to comfort and assist me when far 
away from my mother and friends, and whom I in turn 
delighted to instruct to the best of my poor abilities, 
should, when grown to womanhood, be (with her gc)od 
husband) the chosen friend of my dear sister's son. 
' Truth is stranger than fiction.' Methinks, dear mother, 
I see yourself and Abby sitting in your snug little 
parlor, cosily chatting of absent friends. Perhaps sister 
Lifdia is spoken of — and A. wishes she knew what L. 
is about. Well, I'll tell her. We are going to give our 
good minister a donation party. We shall not make 
him rich ; but we wish to give him some substantial 
tokens of our reo-ard. The visit will be on Christmas 
Eve. Contrary to the usual custom in such cases, we 
have decided to have no refreshments on the occasion. 
As my name was put on the committee of arrangements, 
I took the liberty to advise that we should dispense 
with the eating 'process. It always seemed ridiculous to 
me that a people should carry their own food to eat at 
their pastor's house, and thus make a deal of unneces- 
sary trouble. And it would be worse still to allow him 
to provide refreshments for three or four hundred people. 
In such a case, a minister might well exclaim, ' save mo 

from my friends.' The Rev. Mr. B , of , at a 

donation party given him, had such a superabundance 
of cooked provisions sent in, that he had to take a 
Avagon the next day and carry it round to the poor. 


My suggestion Tvas well received and seemed to meei 
tlic approbation of the sensible portion of the com- 
munity. So we decided to be singular in this respect, 
and I do not fear that we shall regret it. We expect 
to have a pleasant social and religious visit ; and hope 
it will be the means of promoting our unanimity, and 
building up the cause of Christ in our midst. Our 
pastor is much engaged in his Master's work ; and w^e 
are expecting good days in Zion. ^ ^ '■" 
A — — tells me that you received tJie grapes in good 
order. They vrere given to me ; and I was happy in 
the opportunity of sending a part of them to you. 
Anna Maria and Isabella passed a few hours with us 
to-day. Mrs. Walton also came ; she was one of my 
youthful friends, and I had not seen her for some years. 
The girls have not been here this winter until now. 
They have a multitude of engagements. I was very 
glad to see them. Give my love to all the dear friends. 
I remain, dear mother, your affectionate child, 

"Lydia B. Bacon.'' 

Mrs. Judd, the lady referred to in the preceding 
letter as a resident at the Sandwich Islands, first made 
Mrs. Bacon's acquaintance during the residence of the 
latter at Sackett's Harbor. She was then a motherless 
little girl, and resided with a relative, in whose family 
Mrs. B. was then a boarder. Mrs. B., with her usual 
affectionate regard for chiklren, soon became deeply in- 
terested in the little L. Every afternoon she called the 
child to her room and gave lier instruction in reading 
and needlework, filling her mind with useful knowledge 
and counsel, and seekino' to lead her heart to him who 


lias permitted the orphan to say, ''"When my father and 
mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up." It 
was this same little L. who, after obtaining an accom- 
plished education, and grown to he a lovely and 
pious woman, -was now residing, as the beloved wife of a 
missionary, at the Sandwich Islands. She has frankly 
acknowledged that a few words which IMrs. Bacon said 
to her while a child gave her the first encouragement 
to, and aspiration after usefulness. " From that mo- 
ment,'^ says the friend who gives me the relation of this 
interesting incident, " little L. really began to live. 
She commenced vigorous exertions for self-improvement, 
and after struo^irlino; through difficulties which would 
have staggered any ordinary mind secured a thorough 
education, and went on a mission to a heathen shore, 
where she has exerted an influence on the heathen 
mind unsurpassed by any female living. Truly, ' the 
words of the wise are like apples of gold in pictures of 
silver/ " 

The next letter in my possession is to her friend Mrs. 
H. B , of Sackett's Harbor, and is dated 

" Chelsea, April lotJi, 1845. 
" My very dear sister Harriet : — I perceive on re- 
perusing your last valued epistle that it is just two 
months to-day since its date. Yes, two months ago 
your own hand, (which I have so often pressi'd in 
friendship's close embrace,) penned, folded and sealed 
the precious sheet. Your eyes have looked upon the 
same paper which I have now been looking at, and your 
affectionate heart has dictated those interesting contents 
w^hich call forth sweet responsive emotions from mine. 


And I actual!}^ liokl in mi/ hand that which you have 
made so precious to me by first taking it in your own. 
How pleasant is the thought to me, and how valuable is 
this method of communication between kindred spirits 
whom Providence has separated too widely for personal 
intercourse. Yet far pleasantcr would it be to me, were 
I permitted to throw aside my pen and hold sweet con- 
verse with you face to face. Gladly would I accept 
your kind invitation to visit you this summer ; but fear 
I shall be obliged to defer it until 'a more convenient 
season,' and that indeed may never come. 

'• As yet we know not what awaits us with respect to 
our present situation here ; but we shall not long be 
kept in suspense. Of course the change of government 
at Washington renders our removal a matter of proba- 
bility. A new Collector has been appointed at Boston, 
and whether he will be propitious to us remains to be 
seen. Let this be as it may, it will be all right. Our 
heavenly Father knows what is best, and he will do all 
things well. To us, poor finite creatures, it seems 
desirable that w^e should stay ; but we are short-sighted, 
and know nothing aright. My great desire is for a 
submissive spirit, and I do think my husband and my- 
self both feel ready to acquiesce in the divine wilL 

" We are rejoiced to hear that you enjoy such a good 
degree of health. This is the best of heaven's temporal 
gifts, without which all other temporal good is vanity 
indeed, xind in your lonely state it seems a special 
mercy that you have such liealth as enables you to be 
actively and usefully employed. May you long enjoy 
tliis blessing, and find full scope for the exercise of your 
kindly and benevolent feelings. 


" AVe have been called to witness tlie departure of 
one of our little ones. She was the daughter of Dr. 
F., who married my niece, and was a sweet, interesting 
child of four years. Hor disease was the wliooping- 
cougli. She loved music, and kept those who liad the 
care of her singing the sweet hymns wliich her mother 
and aunts had taught her. These seemed a store laid 
up for time of need, and it was delightful to see what 
a comfort this treasure was to her. Almost at the last 
she requested her friends to sing that beautiful hymn of 
Kirke White : 

* Oh, Lord, another day is flown, 
And we, a lonely band, 
Are met once more before thy throne, 
To bless thy fostering hand.' 

Soon after this was sung she was seized with a convul- 
sion, and instantly expired. She has left a little sister 
two years older, (the only surviving child,) to mourn 
the loss of her beloved little playmate. This is the 
third family here who have lost their youngest recently, 
leaving them in each instance only one remaining 
child. But they are all pious parents, and have resigned 
their little ones to him who lent them for a season, and 
has recalled them to himself. We are glad to hear that 
you progress so well with your meeting-house, and hope 
you will soon have it finished as you desire. May a 
divine blessing attend all your efforts, and many be 
added to the church of such as shall be saved. We 
have liad here a few precious mercy drops, about twenty 
hopeful conversions. The interest has not yet entirely 
subsided. Our meetings are well attended, and the 
pastor and church much engaged. We need a powerful 


revival here. This is a rapidly increasing population ; 
you would, I think, he astonished at the change which 
has taken place since you were here. 

*' My niece A S is staying with us ; she 

desires her kind love to you and Harriet. She would 
very much like that we should take a trip to your place 
and hring her with us. Harriet told me that she was 
going west this summer. AYhat time will she go? and 
shall you accompany her ? Pray write and let me 
know, for I should very much deplore coming to 
Sackett's and finding that either of you were ahsent. 

a letter from Elizabeth for some months. I know she 
has much to do, and many corres23ondents, but I cannot 
hear that she should fororet me. Remember me to Mr. 

G C 's family, and to all who remember and 

inquire after us. 

" My mother is still living, and in the enjoyment of 
tolerable health. My brothers and sisters are all well. 
I must bid you farewell, desiring an interest in your 
prayers for me and my better half, who is well and 
desires a great deal of love to you and Harriet. While 
life lasts the fond remembrance of your faithful and 
untiring friendship shall be my solace. Pray for us, 
that our faith fail not, and that we may be ready to 
render up our account when our divine Master calls. 
Ask for me more holiness of heart and life : it is what I 
need and what I desire. Should we never write to or 
see each other more, may wo meet at the right hand of 
our Saviour above. Once more, farewell. May the 
grace of God ever fill your heart, is the constant wish of 
" Your affectionate sister, 

** L. B. Bacox." 


To licr Mother. 

''Aug. 29, 1845. 

" Dear Mother : — I received a few lines from you 
yesterday, and was happy once more to see your beloved 

'' Last week we visited New Haven, Conn., the beau- 
tiful ' city of elms.^ I suppose it is so named from the 
great number of elm trees planted in all the principal 
streets. The latter are of spacious breadth and noble 
length, and the lofty trees meeting overhead afford a 
delightful shade to the traveler, and give the place an 
air of grandeur and beauty not to be described. You 
will recollect, mother, that our first station when Josiali 
entered the army was at Fort Sale, near New Haven. 
I think it was in the year 1809 that he was sent there 
with a detachment of men. The fort and barracks 
were then being built. But to our great disajDpointment, 
just as our comfortable quarters were ready for us to 
occupy, husband was ordered to rejoin his regiment, 
then stationed at Fort Independence. Of course we 
have always felt a special interest in the place, and have 
long wished to re-visit it. We have of late been often 

solicited to visit in the family of Mr. W , who is 

the father of our pastor's wife. This invitation being 
now urgently renewed, with a sj^ecial request that we 
should come during Commencement week, we decided 
to accept it. We had an additional and ver}^ strong in- 
ducement to go at this time in the fact that my 
husband's nephew, J. S. B., was to graduate, now having 
just completed his studies at Yale College. So we 
concluded we would attend Commencement exercises, 
which was my first debut in this line. 


" Wo liad a very pleasant ride from Boston to New 
Haven in tlie cars, going one hundred and sixty-two 
miles in ten hours. I was quite fatigued, it is true, but 
slept well, and arose refreshed by slumber and anxious 
to renew my acquaintance with the scenes of my 
earliest married life. So we took a carryall, and with 
our dear pastor, wife and son, (who came to New Haven 
with us,) we rode to Fort Hale. Only thirty-six years, 
if I remember rightly, since it was built and occupied 
by proud and gallant troops. Now wo found it in a 
state of ruin, the fort tumbling to pieces, and the 
barracks occupied by fishermen and clam-diggers. We 
entered the fort, ascended the parapet, took a survey of 
the beautiful prospect from the summit, and left hoping 
that it would never be found necessary to repair these 
ruins. The house in which we used to board still re- 
tained its former comfortable appearance, although none 
of its former occupants reside in it. We also saw the 
old meeting-house where we used to attend worship with 
the soldiers ; but thirty years and more make great 
changes everywhere. This ride occupied us most of 
the morning. 

" In the afternoon we heard a fine address from Eev. 
Dr. Bethune, of Philadelphia. His subject was Study. 
He answered some of the objections which are made 
against it by saying that students are not so much 
injured by attention to their books as by the want of 
attention to their food, their exercise and personal 
cleanliness. In the latter particular he thought there 
was great deficiency. He said many of them were 
content with merely washing their face and hands, 
instead of that daily ablution of the whole body which 


was indispensable to sound health. He asked them 
* what they shoukl think if their laundress only washed 
the wruthands and collar of their shirts ?' This 
address was very interesting, and made the auditors not 
only smile, but in one instance roar. In the latter ease 
the speaker was compelled to join the laughers, and in- 
deed how could he help it, when looking over that va^t 
assembly with their mouths wi>]e open. 

"Wednesday morning we visited, the Trumbull 
gallery of paintings. These were, presented to Yale 
College, with money to build the hall in which they are 
hung. An admittance fee of twenty-five cents is taken, 
and the income thus derived is used to help indigent 
young men to complete their studies preparatory to the 
sacred ministry. The remains of Trumbull are en- 
tombed beneath the hall, and his monument is directly 
under his own and his wife's portrait. Just above 
these is a splendid picture of General Washington and 
his beautiful horse. It was taken from life, and is said 
to be a very exact likeness. Trumbull was one of 
Gen. Washington's aids, and was considered one of the 
best artists of his day. Why is it that one feels so 
differently in looking at Washington's picture than that 
of any other human being ? Is it not because in his 
character goodness was so eminently combined with 
greatness? TrumbulFs representations of him are 
better than any others. The expression is uncommonly 
good and life-like. As you gaze you think you can see 
the workings of that powerful mind, endowed by the 
Almighty for the part which he had to perform. 

" I was told while in New Haven the following anec- 
dote of the artist: When he drew the heads of tha 


signers of the Declaration of Independence lie took 
them from life. But there was one exception. Colonel 
Harrison, (the father of General Harrison,) had de- 
ceased, and Trumbull, not choosing to put in a head 
which he could not draw from life, had omitted him. 
Some time after a gentleman who was a stranger to 
Trumbull called to see the picture. After looking at it 
attentively, he observed that it was a great pity all the 
signers were not on the canvas, and expressed great 
regret that Col. Harrison was left out. Trumbull 
inquired if he knew the Colonel, and the stranger 
replied ' he was my fatlierJ ' Did he look like you T 
said the artist. ' No,' was the reply ; 'but I can tell you 
how he looked.' Trumbull immediately took his poncil 
and drew from the son's description. Upon shewing 
him the drawing it was pronounced an accurate likeness, 
and the artist added it to the group. 

" At ten in the morning, (after leaving the picture- 
gallery,) we attended an address before the Alumni of 
the College. But I came away as wise as I went, not 
being able to hear a word. The speaker's voice was too 
low, and ere he closed two-thirds of the audience had 
left, being unable to hear him. It was a great pity 
that so much good, (for I presume it tvas good,) should 
be lost for w^ant of sufficient voice to make it audible. 
In the afternoon we heard addresses from theological 
students. At half-past five we went to ride over the 
beautiful city, and returning spent the evening in social 

converse at Mr. AV 's. Here we met ]\Ir. Wallcut, 

formerly a missionary to Syria, but now a settled pastor 
in a beautiful village at Long Meadow, Mass. 

" The next day being Commencement day, we started 


early that wo iniglit secure good seats. Mrs. B and 

myself, having a son and nephew ahout to graduate 
were favored above many others in having tickets to 
the platform. Even here was a choice of seats ; but 
going so early we had good places assigned us. Mrs. J. 
B. did not attend in the afternoon, feeling rather 
indisposed. But I wished to see the whole, and perse- 
vered, althougli quite weary, and I as.^ure you I felt 
well rewarded. But I must close my descriptions, for 
my side aches badly with the effort of writing so long a 
letter, and it is late in the evenino-. So o'ood-nio'lit, 
dear mother. Yours, 

" Lydia B. Bacon.'' 

To the same. 

''JSfovemher 5, 1845. 
" My dear Mother: — 1 am wonderfully at leisure this 
morning, and shall devote an hour or so in telling you 
about the new Sailor's Home in Boston, in which you 
have felt so much interest. The quilt which you were 
making for it will be very acceptable, as they have now 
commenced house-keeping. Mrs. More, with her hus- 
band and sister A , passed the afternoon with us 

during their visit to the city.* Mrs. H. was prevented 
from coming with them by indisposition. She is very 
feeble, having every thing in life desirable but health 
AYithout this nothing earthly can be enjoyed, as we all 
know more or less by experience. I do love Mr. and 
Mrs. More, and their visit was very pleasant to me. On 
Wednesday the new Home was thrown open for the re- 
ception of company, visitors paying twenly-five cents for 
admittance. This fee was asked to raise a sum for the 


completion of tlio building, which is delayed for want of 
funds. All the furniture has been received as a dona- 
tion from different societies and individuals. The 
materials arc of good quality, but made plain to 
correspond with the building. The latter is large and 
commodious, but not one cent is spent for unnecessary 
ornament. This is as it should be. I wish it were so in 
all our houses of every description, at least so long as 
there is such a crying tuaiit of money for purposes of 
usefulness and charity. The Home is really worth 
seeing. It is five stories high ; the first story, which is 
partly under ground, contains the washing, ironing, 
bathing-rooms and collars. In the second are the 
kitchens, pantries and dining-rooms, all of which are 
very large and convenient. The third story has a 
spacious reading-room, two large parlors with folding 
doors, a smoking-room, leading to a piazza, and an oflice 
and parlor, with other apartments for the family having 
charge of the Institution. The fourth and fifth stories 
are divided into chambers, with two single beds in most 
of them. These are furnished each with a table, two 
chairs, a mirror and a lamp. On each table is a Bible, 
and on some of them other good books. There are also 
pin-cushions, needle cases, thread and buttons, that the 
poor sailor may mend his clothes. None of these 
articles are to be taken from the rooms, but are free to 
the use of each succeeding occupant. It was quite 
amusing to observe the variet}' of bed-quilts which have 
been furnished. Hardly any two are alike. I saw one 
with white squares written over with texts of Scripture, 
pretty verses and kind wishes for poor Jack. I thonglit 
while looking at them how many pleasant hours different 


circles of ladios liail passed too;etlier while making 
articles for the comfort of the liardy sailor. Oli, it was 
cnorigli to do one's heart good to see these tokens of 
regarJ for a class of men wlio are so serviceable to the 
■worhl, and of wliom the world thinks so little. I re- 
gretted that we had not done something in Chelsea 
towards famishing the house beside our contribution for 
the building, wliieh amounted to sixty dollars. 

" Tables were set in the Home covered with useful 
and fancy articles for sale. Thi'se articles were given 
by benevolent persons, and tlie tables gratuitously 
tended. The avails were to be added to the funds for 
the completion of the building. I believe that about 
five hundred dollars was realized for this purpose. As 
I passed througli the chambers and saw the nice soft 
beds, I thought how many poor sons of the ocean, as 
they lay their weary heads upon the pillows provided for 
their comfort by the fair daughters of New England, 
will bless them for their labor of love. How much 
better that our young ladies should be tlius employed 
than to spend their time in adorning their own persons 
and ministering to vanity and folly. This establishment 
is a noble one, and worthy of our good city. 

"The weather has been very pleasant of late. Yes- 
terday, however, there was a storm ; but it has now 
cleared away, and is threatening to freeze hard. Our 
plants in tlie house look finely, and we are mostly 
prepared for winter. How is your health, dear motlier? 
and how is sister A.? Djes the coming winter look 
long in pro^px^t? I hope it may prove a comfortable 

one to you. E sails to-day. She will have, (as the 

sailors say,) a spanking breeze and pleasant weather. 


May fi Vnv} Providence protect lier and give tlie winds 
and tlie waves charge concerning lier. Mj love to all, 
ill wliicli Josiali heartily joins. 

" Your affectionate child, 

" L. B. Bacon." 

To the same. 

'' Be.cemher olsf, 1845. 

"You will perceive, my dear mother, by the date, 
that this is the last day of the year, a period of time 
which naturally suggests most serious reflections. 

"Mr. Langworthy has improved the occasion by a 
very solemn discourse. His text was ' Where art thou?^ 
and the subject was applied to the different classes of 
'his hearers, who listened with earnest and profound at- 
tention. It well becomes us to ask ourselves, wJiere 
are tve, icliat a7'e ive doing, and tvJdtJier are tve going f 
If Christians, are we in the path of duty? and are we 
contented that our heavenl}^ Father should mete out 
our charges for us without giving us the whg or the 

" Another year is added to the many we have seen, all 
filled with mercies, all rich with tokens of the divine 
goodness. But what returns have we made fur all his 
manifestations of kindness and grace toward us. I can 
see nothing in my own case at all answerable to the 
mercies received ; and reviewing my life I am con- 
Btrained to call myself an unprofitable servant, an un- 
grateful sinner. At present I am constantly reminded 
of the uncertainty of life. My infirmities are increas- 
ing, and I am increasingly liable to sudden death. Yet 
fihould the brittle thread of my life be snapped sudden- 


Ij to otliors, it will not and oiinlit net to bo so to mo. 
Idle ddily, innsmiuli as sure disease is making constant 
progress. Yet I cannot always bring death near to my- 
self. Allliongli so conversant with it, and so often an 
attendant upon tlie dying, yet I cannot always realize as I 
wish the sohmn trnth, ' tliis year thou mayest die/ and 
* in sucli an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh.' 
Oh, liow slow are our unUdii^'ing hearts to credit either 
the promises or the tlireatenings of tlie Almighty. 
Pray for me, dear mothi^r, that I may bi' p:-ej)ared for 
whatever awaits me anti mine. Oar dear pn^itor is very 
much engaged in religious things, and there seems to 
be more altention in our church and congregation than 
there has been of late. 

" Jamiary l,*f, 1 84G. A happy new year to my dear 
motlu r and sisters and all my good fVicnds in Sandwich. 
It. is cliaimijig weather today for those who visit their 
friends wl'di the compliments of the season. Wo re 
ceived tlie bed-quilts and articles which you sent in good 
order. Wo liiive sent the largest quilt to ' the Sailor's 
Home.' and the small one with the other things to ' the 
Widi.w and Fatherless Society.' In both instances they 
wei'e very grat; fully receivinl. 

" Since I wrote last we have had some affjcting cases 
of sickness and death at the Hospital. TuO were 
sufferei-s frcm the effects of rum. One of these had 
' delii-iuni-trenuMis,' and died in twenty four hours after 
he was brouglit in, in awful horror of mind. Tlie other 
lingered a few days and tl;en went to hlsac;ount. The 
last was a well educated man about fifty yeai-s of age, 
good-looking, and of })l(asing address. 01), it was 


licart-sickciiiiio' to see oiu^ so endowed by heaven debased 
in liis own eyes and in that of liis fellow men. He ex- 
pressed thanks tliat he was permitted to die among 
Christian people ; bnt liis mind was so weak and wander- 
ing that he could converse but little. He was very 
grateful for any attention, and smiled whenever I went 
to see him. AVe hoped he would rally sufficiently to 
have his mind directed to ' the Lamb of God,' but the 
mandate had gone foi'tli, 'ciit him down/ and he died 
as he lived, withont God and without hope. Poor 
fellow ! ' bitter that he had never been born.' His 
mother was spared the ag ny of seeing a once darling 
child so lost and degraded. The third death wa^ that 
of a colored seaman ; his disea.-e Wiis consumption. I 
hope that he realized his situation, and was in some 
measure prepared to meet it. He was veiy patient and 
appeared submissive to his fate. He was very fond of 
hearing me read the Bible, and used to say ' he could 
bear it all night, he loved it so well.' He breathed his 
last as ea.-y and peaceful as a little child going to sleep. 
He had a wife, who with other colored friends attended 
his funeral, at which Mr. Beanmn, a colored clergyman, 
officiated. Thus three times in one week were we called 
to bury the dead. 

"Dear Abby, we have now in the H')spital as a 
jiatient, an old acquaintance of yours. He recollects 
you peifi'ctly, and was acquainted with all our friends 
at Sa.kctt's Harbor. AVe often meet iho.-,e who have 
known om- friends, but here was one who had once 
actually been in husband's employ. He is a clever 
man. Wo have three sailors in the house over sixty 
years of age, and neiiher of them fit to go to tea again. 

BIOr.RArilY OF MRS. LYDTA B. T5A00N. 237 

When I sec sncli poor, worn-out sailors, I feel a^ if I 
wanted to see them in a good home. How mueli we 
need a snvr/ harbor for such shattered hulks. One of 
these old sailors was a twin chill. His sister, (his other 
half, as he called her,) died at eleven years, and they 
were two of eighteen children horn of the same mother. 
The rest all lived to grow up and settle in life. The 
sons, ton in numher, were all farmers but this one. 
He wished ' to see the tvorld,' and he has seen it to his sor- 
roiv. He is a sensible man, and appears well disposed. 
Yesterday he went to the city to see his cousin ; when 
he returned he brought me some figs from her. He 
said he told her that 1 went into the wards to see the 
poor sailor ; and she said, ' she must send that dear old 
lady a present.' The figs are very nice, and I send a 
part of them to you. 

"Anna is well, and enjoys herself; she is going to 
Mrs. Manning's this afternoon, and tomorrow will pass 

the day with J , and bring L home with her. 

She attends two evening meetings in the vreek, and one 
Lyceum. Adieu, dear mother and sister. With love to 
all, I remain 

" Yours most affectionately, 

" Lydia." 

The preceding letter is the latest one in the writer's 
possession, addressed to the dear mother v.hom this 
daughter so loved and venerated. Between the date of 
this and the one wliich follows, is a gap of sixteen 
months. During this period Mrs. Bacon visited her be- 
loved parent, and witnessing her increased infirmities 
felt that possibly this was her last visit. Her account 


of ifc is on veil in a letter to her friend Mrs. B., -wliicli is 
dated Feb. 11th, 1848, to which the reader is referred. 

Well does the writer remember the happy pride with 
which Mrs. B. exhibited to her some bed-quilts and other 
useful articles wliich her mother had assisted in making 
for the Sailor's Home and the Society for the Widow 
and Fatherless. '' Are not these stitches beautiful,^' 
said she, "for an old lady of eighty-six years?'' 

Her expressions of attachment to and fondness for 
her only surviving parent were frequent and endearing, 
though always natural and unaffected. After Mrs. B's 
return from the last visit to her mother, I called to 
greet her, and found her standing by her mother's 
portrait with a look of touching sadness. After my 
salutation w^as returned her eyes again sought the 
picture, and w^ith a pathos not to be described she said, 
"I shall not sec that blessed mother again in life. I 
shall meet her no more till we cast our crowns together 
at a Saviour's feet." Then adding, " but oh, shall one 
so uiuoo7^tliy as I be permitted to join the blessed 
above?" She burst into a flood of tears. Having 
always regarded ]\Irs. Bacon as a most exemplary 
Christian, I was struck with her emotion, and could not 
refrain from saying to her, " Surely you do not doubt 
your acceptance." Smiling through her tears she 
replied with her usual sweetness, " Yes, dear, when I 
look only at myself 1 am full of doubts, hut ivlien I look 
to Clirht all is peace." She then added that to her 
** one of h'aven's greatest attractions was that there 
she should be freed from sin, and thus have no drawback 
to her w^orship or her enjoyment." I remember being 
forcibly struck wdth her declaration that " it would bo 


710 lienvcn to lier if .she iniist carry licr sins Avitli licr." 
Perfect and universal purity was indispensable to lier 
idea of perfect happini^ss. 

The lirst call wliich I made upon her aft;-r the 
decease of her beloved parent she took me by the hand 
and said, *' I have lost the best mother that ever a 
daughter had ; but heaven has gained a saint, and 
Jesus a new jewel for his crown/^ 

Her mother's death took place, and is alluded to 
briefly in the following letter to her friend, which was 
written during tlie succeeding spring. 

To Mrs. B , of Sackctt's Harbor. 

" Chelsea, April IStJi, 1847. 

"My ever dear sister: — Your precious letter was 
very, very welcome, and I embrace the first opportunity 
to tell you so, and to assure you of our unabated affec- 
tion for yourself and your darling cliild. Such a train 
of thought rushes into my mind when I hear from you, 
such a vivid recollection of the many pleasant hours we 
have passed together, of the many kindnesses received 
from you, that my heart is filled to overflowing. I 
almost wish for a fairy's wing to waft me to you, that I 
mio'ht tell all I think and feel to the loved sister who 
has so often sympathized in my joys and sorrows. 

" We have recently received a letter from Mrs. Boyd, 
after a protracted silence, reviving our remembrances of 
the many interesting circumstances connected with our 
intimacy. Those memories can never be efl'aced. But 
oh, how many changes have taken place since those 
days, both with her and with me. How full of passing 
events is the present moment. Our country is again 


involved in war, bringing in its train all the multiplied 
evils which it involves," and death is selecting its shining 
marks to make us feel its horrors more deeply. You 
see by the papers that some of the officers with whom 
we were acquainted are among the most conspicuous in 
the discharge of duty. Let our fervent prayers ascend 
that the nations may learn war no more, and the Prince 
of Peace rnli' in every lieart. You can imagine that we 
feel more than ordinary interest in this war, so many of 
our former associates being engaged in it, and its inci- 
dents recalling so many events connected with our own 
experience. Bat I dare not trust my pen on this 

" AVe were delighted to hear that you and your sweet 
Harriet were well. You have a blessing indeed in such 
a child. I rejoice with you sincerely, and hope that she 
may be spared to cheer the remainder of your pilgrim- 
age. What a kind Providence it was that permitted us 
all to meet once more under such propitious circum- 
stances. We have visited Mount Auburn since your 
return. I cannot tell you how much we thouglit of you 
and your dear ones. It is a most solemn place to me, 
notwithstanding it is so beautiful, and so embellished 
by nature and art. 

*' You have heard tliat I have been called to part 
with her who gave me birth. Now I know indeed what 
it is to be motlierless. How incxprcssihlif lonely is the 
feeling ! My dear mother had lived beyond tlie common 
age of man, being eighty-six years old. For the last 
few years she has struggled through infirmities, which, 
though not of a violent nature, w^ere undermining her 
constitution, and made her an easy victim. Her death 


was quiet and peaceful, surrounded by lier cliildren, all 
vieing' with each other in kind attentions. I have her 
picture, taken about two years previous to her decease ; 
it is an excellent likeness. When I look at it, and 
think that slie is gone, I cannot describe my feelings of 
sadness. But I reflect upon her happiness in the 
presence of her Saviour, all her doubts and fears re- 
moved, freed from infirmities and from sin, and my 
fervent ejaculation is, ' the will of the Lord be done !' 
" I often hear from Mrs. Judd, through my sister 

A , whose son has returned to the Sandwich Islands 

with his family. He edits the State paper called the 
Polynesian. Dr. Judd is Secretary of State, and his 

wife, (our own little L ,) is a lady of the first rank 

at the Hawaian Court. She is thouglit to be the most 
elegant woman there. My nephew's intimacy with Dr. 
and Mrs. J has been continued with increased affec- 
tion and confidence. He describes their family as very 
lovely, and exceedingly well-educated in every sense of 

the word. Little did I think when L and myself 

resided under the same roof at Sackett's, that in future 
years the welfare and happiness of one of my own dear 
kinsmen would be so pleasantly connected with her. Is 

it not a wonderful Providence ? J is in mercantile 

business, with a partner, in addition to his literary em- 
ployment. He has adopted the country as his own, 
looking upon it as his future home, and desirous to use 
all his efforts for its welfare and prosperity. So my 
desire that some of our numerous offspring should be 
useful to the heathen has been gratified in part. To 
have one of them a Christian missionary is more than 


God sees fit to grant, more, (I acknowledge,) than 
I deserve. 

" I am glad that your sweet boy, (the son of our dear 
Francis,) is situated so much to your mind. I hope he 
may prove every thing that you could wish. You have, 
I am sure, trained him in the way he should go, and 
may trust the promise that he will not depart from it- 
Where is the little sister ? I should love to see them 
both, and hope that I may at some future time. 
Eemember us with much affection to Harriet, and also 
to all those who feel an interest in us, especially to our 

good friends the C families, Mr. G s, and the 

S s. Anna is with us, and begs to join us in these 

kind remembrances. She has the promise of accompany- 
ing us to the Harbor when the railroad to it is com- 
pleted, should such an event happen ere our pilgrimage 
is ended. 

" We are still, as you see, at the Hospital, a kind 
Providence having permitted us thus far to retain a post 
where opportunity is afforded for the improvement of 
our talents, be they one or many. Oh, may it be found 
at the last that we have not buried them in the earth or 
hid them in a napkin. We have about sixty patients 
now from all nations ; poor fellows, my heart aches for 

" The spring with us is very backward, though the 
birds carol forth their sweet notes. But I must say adieu. 

" Yours faithfully, 

" Lydia Bacon." 


The following letter, written by Mrs. Bacon to her 
sister T. at Sandwich, shews her deep interest and 
tender sympathy in all that befell her friends, whether 
prosperous or adverse. The wedding of her sister J^s 
daughter in Boston, the death of two of her most valued 
Chelsea friends, are mentioned with the emotion which 
each event was calculated to produce. With the latter 
incidents the writer of these pages w^as perfectly 
familiar, and can testify to the truthfulness of hbr 
friend's description. She thinks it not improper to add 
here that the three motherless daughters of Mrs. De 

B , referred to in the following letter, are now 

blessed with a pious step-mother, who is diligently and 
successfully training them in the paths of peace and 
virtue, and making their home as happy as their 
lamented mother could have desired. 

To Mrs. S . 

*' October, 1847. 

" My dear sister : — For many days I have been trying 
to find a few leisure moments to write you, but have 
been more than usually occupied. Scenes both joyous 
and painful have filled up all the passing moments. 
But at length I find myself alone, w^ith the prospect of 
being able to devote a few moments to you, and will 
detail some of the most important events which have 
transpired since I w^rote you last. And first, the ivedding. 
I wish you had all been here to witness it. It was truly 
a pleasant sight. The youthful pair in all the freshness 
and joyousness of first love, went through the ceremony 
with great propriety and becoming dignity. I never 
saw the Episcopal form of marriage before, except once 


where a part of the service was omitted. Dr. V 

officiated. The bride and groom looked charmingly, 
being dressed with becoming simplicity and elegance. 

'' And now I have a very different scene to present. 
For the last fortnio^ht our church has been in a state of 
great anxiety on account of the severe sickness of two 
of our beloved sisters : and we have followed them both 

to 'the grave. Mrs. De B , (in whom you became 

interested last winter,) after months of intense suffering 
has gone to her home above. She had a lovely family, 
and every thing to make life desirable, but bowed her 
head submissively to her Father's will, commending to 
His care her throe little daughters, so soon to be 
motherless. Her last thoughts wei*e of the Saviour, and 
her last audible words, ' thechiefest among ten thousand, 
and altogether lovely ; yes, altogether lovely.' 

'^ The other death was that of Mrs. Norton, mother 
to the young man whom you heard speak in our sailors' 
meeting. She was a very active member of our female 
prayer-meeting, where she Avill be greatly missed. She 
was sick three weeks or more with the dysentery. 
She suffered much in body, but her mind was calm and 
joyful, and her faith triumphant. The Saviour, the 
Almighty Saviour, was her theme. She dwelt much 
upon his divinity. ' Were Jesus oiili/ a man,'' she would 
say, ' how could I trust my soul to him in such an hour 
as this? But he is God — I know it, I feel it ; my feet 
are on the roclc of ages ; the everlasting arm is under- 
neath me, and none shall be able to pluck me out of his 
hand.' She retained her reason to the last. As her 
family and friends stood around her dying bed she 


sloTvIy raised her wasted finger, and pointing upward 
said, with a heavenly smile, * Home,' and breathed her 
last. Very sweet has been my intercourse with both 
these deceased sisters ; it will be long before their places 
will be filled. These are not unmeaning providences ; 
may we receive the admonition God intends. Adieu, 
dear sister. Yours ever, 

*'Lydia B. Bacon." 

To Mrs. S , whose son was in a hopeless decline, 

she wrote as follows : 

''November 15th, 1847. 
" My dear sister: — I have endeavored for many days 
past to find time to write you a few lines, and have not 
succeeded until this morning. Every moment of my 
time seems to be full of occupation, and yet I often ask 
myself, ' what have I accomplished ?' True, I do my 
own sewing, besides attending to the numerous wants of 
my family, which numbers one hundred. Yet I write 
but little compared with what I used to do, as the 
exertion always hurts my side. I acknowledge I am 
becoming a very poor correspondent, both as to the 
quality and frequency of my letters. But as I really 
have a strong desire to write, which my health and my 
cares only prevent, you must * take the will for the 
deed.' Do not think that I love my sisters less because 
my letters are ' few and far between.' Neither must 
you imagine that the constant demand upon my sympa- 
thies in behalf of the sick and sad in my home sphere 
makes me less sensitive to 7/our sorrows. I know the 
desolate feeling that must fill your tender heart as you 


look upon the wasting form of your beloved son. My 
dear sister, I do pity you and pray for you. I cannot 
but hope that God in his infinite mercy will spare your 

dear T , and raise him up from this sickness to be 

an ornament to his profession and a blessing to the 
world. But if in his unerring wisdom he shall order 
otherwise, may he give you and his friends resignation 
to the divine will. Especially do I pray that dear 

T may bow submissively to the disappointment of 

his plans and hopes. May he trust wholly in that 
divine Eedeemer who alone can clease our souls from 
guilt ; may he seek earnestly that forgiveness and 
acceptance which will fit him to live or enable him to 
die in peace. This sudden sickness is a sad blow to all 
his friends, who have become exceedingly interested in 
him. May we be enabled to say, ' the will of the Lord 
be done.' We know that our heavenly Father cares for 
us ; that he watches over this earth so closely that not a 
sparrow falls to the ground without his notice. Let us 
then feel, my sister, that whatever he wills respecting us 
as individuals is rifvht. Let us cultivate the habit of 
trusting him implicitly, and he will give us grace and 
strength to help in each time of need. Time is fast 
receding from us all. A few more days and we shall all 
put oflPthis earthly tabernacle and fill the places assign- 
ed us in the world to come. Our family has hitherto been 
remarkably exempted from the strokes of death ; but it 
cannot always be so. I feel for myself that my tim^'. 
will probably be very short, as I have admonitory 
symptoms which cannot be mistaken. May it be my 
chief concern ' to make my calling and election sure/ 
" I hope to send this by Josiah, and also some grapes 


and jollies for the clear invalid. Give liim my love, and 
toll liini that 1 think of him and pray for him. Anna 
is writing a letter to go with this. Remember us to all 
friends, and believe me, 

" Your affectionate sister, 

" Lydia." 

To the same. 

''December IQili, 1S47. 

" I received yours, dear sister, without date, and 
hasten to answer it. I have just returned from my 
daily visit to the wards, where I have been endeavoring 
to sympathize with a young sailor who is in a consump- 
tion. The doctor says his time hero is very short, but 
the poor fellow docs not realize it as he should. He 
would like to die, tliat ho may be released from suffer- 
ing : as he believes that he is punished here as much as 
he deserves, and that he ought to be rewarded hereafter. 
Oh, how dreadful to see people so deceived! I gave 
him some comforts for the body, and left him a tract, 
which he promised to read. 

" Prom him I turn to sympathize with you, my sister, 
and to tell you how truly I feel for you. Altliough I 
have no children of my own, still I think I can feel for 
those who see their dear offspring slowly wasting before 
their eyes and soon to be on earth no more. I pray 
that our heavenly Father will strengthen you to bear 
this heavy trial, and to meet the still heavier stroke 
which now seems to be so near. It is a great comfort, 
dear sister, tliat you can liavc him with you and be able 
to make him so comfortable. Thus the Lord mingles 
mercies in each bitter cup. He ' doth not willingly 


afflict or grieve the cliildren of men/ but chastens us 
* for our profit, that we may be partakers of his 

holiness. I hope our dear T will cast himself into 

the arms of a redeeming Saviour with humility, 
penitence and faith. However upright and moral a 
man may be, he can never be saved except through the 
atoning sacrifice of the Lamb of God. ' His blood 
cleanseth from all sin/ 

" We miss Anna very much, and should like to have 
her return whenever you can spare her. Do not confine 
her to the house too much ; she has a great deal of air 
and exercise here, and close confinement will be very 

injurious to her health. K has not been here yet 

to stay. Aunt J wishes her to pass a week there 

before she herself leaves for New York. She is going 
thither to stay a few weeks under the care of a cele- 
brated physician, the same who has helped A M 

so much. I have not seen the P s since Anna left, 

the weather and the walkins; havino; been the most of 
the time very unpleasant. I attend the Lowell lectures 
it is true, but I ride to the door and return directly, and 
cannot stop for calls. Dr. Potter's lectures are the best 
I ever heard at the Institute ; his subject is * the soul 
and mind of man,' — the highest subject, next to Deity, 
upon which human lips can speak. The Doctor has a 
crowded house, and is listened to with the most interested 
attention. His speaking is easy, distinct and graceful. 
The lectures before the Mercantile Library Association 
are also well attended, and the lectures as reported are 
certaiuly very interesting. 

" And last, hut hy no means least, our own Tuesday 


evening lectures, from Mr. Langwortliy, are most 
excellent. His subject is, ' The duties and responsibili- 
ties of the Christian.' I think I never knew them so 
forcibly presented or so impressively urged before. I 
want every body should hear them. "We have also very 
interesting temperance meetings. Your Uncle Bacon, 
Annie, is much engaged in promoting this good cause. 

Next Monday evening Mr. d's scholars arc to 

give a concert of music ; I expect to enjoy it very much 
if I should be permitted to be present. 

" Capt. A is to leave the first of January. Ho 

has just received from a deceased friend the sum of 
^5000. This is very opportune, as he was wrecked 
previous to coming here, and not being insured lost his 
all. I am really glad for his good fortune in receiving 
a bequest which will place him above want. He now 
intends having his useless foot taken off and a cork one 
substituted. I rather fear the latter article vrill be in 
demand since the Mexican war has crippled so many. 
Should this raise the price so much that poor soldiers 
are not able to purchase this powerful auxiliary to 
locomotion, I think the Government in whose behalf 
they suffered ought to supply them with so important a 

" The boy with the bruised arm is still here, and is 

recovering slowly. Mr. started for Snug Harbor 

this afternoon. Mr. E gave him free tickets, 

Josiah furnished him with a little of the needful, and I 
put up for him a basket of provisions for the journey. 

'' D 's miniature vessel is finished at last, and 

was launched about a week since ; it was very hand- 
some. The man carried it home and was liberally 


rewarded ; he returned very mucli pleased "witli the 
"house, the lady, and the money. In love, I remain, 

" Yours, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

To the same, on receivino; intellio-ence of her son's 

''January Sth, 1848. 
" Mj dear sister : — Though we have for some days 
feared, and were thus in some measure prepared for the 
sad tidings of dear Theodore's decease, yet when we 
learned that it had actually taken place I found that 
hope of his recovery had predominated in our breasts. 
Oh, that God would give us each grace to say, ' Thy 
will, not mine, be done.' We need divine help to attain 
that humble submission to our Father's will wliich is so 
desirable and so necessary. This our heavenly Father 
requires of us, even under such severe affliction as that 
which now rends your maternal bosom. The desire of 
your eyes is taken from you at a stroke. He was 
a son every way worthy of jour warmest affections : one 
to whom you were looking as a solace and support to 
your declining years : one who bade fair to be an 
ornament to society and a comfort to us all. All our 
fondest wishes could not keep him ; human love and 
skill could not save him from the grasp of death. 
There is only one solace — and is it not sufficient ? — our 
Father in heaven saw it best to take him, and allows us 
to hope that our loss is the dear one's gain. I feel 
assured that amid this stunnino; affliction vou will strive 
to say, with God's dear servant of old, * The Lord gave, 


and the Lord hatli taken away, and blessed be the name 
of the Lord.' 

" We trust tliat this bereavement will be sanctified to 
us all. May we receive the admonition that this painful 
dispensation is intended to give, and be ready when our 
summons shall come to lay aside the flesh which now 
cumbers the immortal spirit. Soon, very soon, some 
one of us who now survive will be called to follow our 
departed T. Oh, may we not only be prepared to go, 
but anticipate our departure with pleasure. Dear sister, 
we do sympathize with you most truly in this sore dis- 
appointment of your most fondly cherished hopes. 
Although I am not a mother, and may not know 
exactly a mother's grief, yet I feel deeply, tenderly for 
you, and pray our Father in heaven to comfort you. 
Eemember that it is He who hath done it; not an 
enemy, but your best friend ; and he has promised to 
bind up your broken heart if you will cast your care on 
him. Lean then upon his Almighty arm, and he will 
give you * the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment 
of praise for the spirit of heaviness.' To his grace I 
commend you, husband joining with me in love and 

*' This letter is necessarily short, as I wished to send 
it by Joseph, and have met with many interruptions 
while writing. When you can spare Anna we shall be 
glad to have her return. God bless and keep you all, 
is the prayer of 

" Your affectionate sister, 

*' Lydia B. Bacox.'' 


The letter wliicli follows was addressed to her beloved 
Mrs. Boyd, who was the " dear Elizabeth " of her 
earlier correspondence. 

''February Wtli, 1848. 
'' Thanks — a thousand thanks for your highly inter- 
esting letter. It was indeed refreshing to my spirits to 
receive so rich an evidence of your continued affection, 
though I have never doubted it for a moment. It was so 
deliglitful to hear from you and yours, and also from 
the many others linked with you in memory's chain and 
in the closest affections of my heart. But especially 
did I prize tidings from the beloved members of your 
family, whose kindness never-failing in the hour of need 
was so grateful to us then, and will be gratefully re- 
membered ' while life and thouoht and beino; lasts.' 
Your beloved mother and grandmother: how kind, how 
delicate were their attentions. i\nd your father was no 
less our constant friend. My heart swells with grati- 
tude to our Father in heaven for strewing in my path 
so many flowers all along life's toilsome way. When I 
look back for tlie shadows of my pilgrimage they are 
almost lost in the sunshine of divine goodness that has 
poured its radiance around me. And mercy still follows 
us ; we are continued in this situation where we can be 
active and useful if we will. Pray for us, that while 
the diseased body of the poor sailor is cared for, tlie sin- 
sick soul may not be forgotten or neglected. In both 
these respects we have constant calls upon our sympa- 
thies and best efforts, and it is very pleasant to be able 
in any degree to alleviate suffering, whether of mind or 


" I know you would feel for tlie sailor. He lias a 
claim upon the consideration of all, for he certainly 
contributes to the comforts and luxuries of all. And yet 
what does the poor seaman receive in return hut hard 
fare and often hard usage. Thanks to him who once 
' pressed a sailor's pillow/ and selected for his bosom 
friends some of this humble class, a better day seem^ 
dawning upon ' the sons of tlie Ocean.' The weather- 
beaten tar is beginning to feel and to act as if he too 
belonged to the immortal part of God's creation. We 
often have very interesting cases among those who are 
brought to the Hospital. Over six tJiousand have been 
here since our sojourn in this place, a period of nearly 
seven years. With three-fourths of this number Ihave 
had personal conversation. What a responsibility. Wo 
to us if we are unfaithful to such a trust ! But I have 
dwelt long enough upon this subject ; my apology must 
be that it is one which lies very near my heart. 

" It gave us great pleasure to hear that you were so 
well. Nothino; would oive us more satisfaction than to 
visit you at your own home and behold you surrounded 
by your little flock. Should our lives be spared till 
the railroad communicates with your place we shall 
certainly try to come. But life is very uncertain, and. I 
am daily admonished, both by my own infirmities and 
the deaths of my friends and neighbors, that this is not 
my home. Well, if I am prepared for an exchange of 
worlds, no matter how soon my summons shall come. 
For however j^leasant or desirable the situation we may 
occupy here, yet heaven is better. Oh, for that faith 
which will enable us to feel alvrays as the apostle, that 
while it was better to depart and be with Christ, we are 


willing to stay and suffer here if our Master requires. 
This state of mind would he easy to attain if our faith 
and love were commensurate with God's gracious and 
blessed promises to those who trust him. Is it not 
delightful, when we get a glimpse of the blessed haven 
of eternal rest, to reflect that the time is coming when 
we shall be admitted to its blessedness? Then shall 
we worship God in the beauty of holiness, without 
temptations to annoy or sin to mar our services. Our 
praises will then be spontaneous and pure, and while we 
gaze with rapture on that divine Saviour who died to 
redeem us, our united song shall burst forth in the 
strain, ' Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive 
power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honor, and glory, and blessing.' Shall we indeed be 
permitted to svrell that strain ? And will it be ours to 
join in the answering chorus, ' Blessing and honor, and 
glory and power be unto him that sitteth upon the 
throne, and to the Lamb forever and ever.' How many 
of our dear friends have preceded us to that better 

" Since I wrote you last I have lost my dear aged 
mother, eighty-six years of age. She slept in Jesus, 
and ' her children buried her.' Her last work on earth 
was for the widow and fatherless. I visited her a short 
time before her death, and spent two weeks with her. 
It was a pleasant and I trust a profitable visit. As I 
left her she took me in her arms and blessed mo saying, 
* I never shall see you again.' The next time I saw 
her she was on the same spot where we took our last 
farewell for time, hut in her coffin. 

*' We are rejoiced to hear that your dear parents and 


granclmotlicr are so well. Surely the latter is blessed 
with a green old age in the midst of her numerous 
progeny. Give our kind regards to her and to them 
all. How vividly, as I write, they all come in review 
before me. It seems but as yesterday since I was 
associated with them in the dear Sabbath school, and 
passed so many happy liours in the Bible class with my 
beloved Elizabeth at my side. 

*' I received a letter yesterday from sister Harriet B., 
for which I have been looking for several long months. 
I am rejoiced to hear that her darling daughter is 
happily united to one who seems every way worth}^ of 
her. He was chosen, I doubt not, both by mother and 
child for his intrinsic worth. There is a young lady in 
Boston who has a large fortune, and wishes to wed a 
deserving young man who is poor. Her father rejects 
him with scorn, telling his child that she ought to look 
for a fortune with a husband, and gives a reason which 
strikes me most singularly, viz : that she has so much 
money she ought to marry rich. 

" My sentiments respecting the war coincide exactly 

with yours. I hope should E be spared, the 

experience which he may gain in his present situation 
will be of importance to his whole future life, and that 
he may return unscathed shall be my prayer and hope. 
This, dear Elizabeth, I consider possible, even to the 

soldier. For has not E been reared in the nursery 

of piety and virtue ? Has he not been taught to raise 
his infant heart in praise and prayer to his God and 
Father ? And will not the pious counsels which he has 
received in his early days abide with him, and be a safe- 
guard in the time of trial and temptation ? Often will 


lie think of dear friends at home — the sweet home of 
childhood and riper years. How will the tender love of 
parents, the sweet affection of ' hirth-mates ^ rise to his 
rememhrance and fill his heart till his eyes overflow 
with manly tears. 

" You know, dearest, that my husband wTnt into the 
army young, (in the war for sailor's rights,) and I 
accompanied him. I can then speak from experience, 
for our early instruction was like a seven-fold shield 
around us. And the restraining grace of God enabled 
us to resist much that was evil. Take comfort then ; 

pray much for your dear E , and w^rite to him often, 

that he may be reminded of your affectionate solicitude 
and feel the force of early ties. God guard him, and 
bless you all. 

" Yours ever, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

To Mrs. H. B., of Sackett's Harbor, upon the mar- 
riage of her only daughter. 

'' Fehruary 23, 1848. 
" Right glad was I, my dear sister Harriet, to receive 
your long looked for, and most deeply interesting epistle. 
I felt assured that the neswpaper which I received a 
short time since, was only the harbinger to a more full 
account of the late happy addition to your family circle. 

We congratulate you that your dear H is united to 

one who (from the description of disinterested friends,) 
we judge to be most worthy of her. Dear sister, may 
your heart be filled with gratitude to the Giver of all 
good, for such a happy consummation of your hopes for 


your only dauglitcr. Swcot Harriet, the beloved cliild 
of my aftections, whom I cradled in my arms during the 
first moments of her conscious existence, what shall I 
say to her ? For several years I watched the promising 
hud of artless childhood. After the separation of sev- 
eral intervening years, I again saw that bud of promise 
blossctned into beautiful womanhood — just such a char- 
acter as I desired and expected to see developed. And 
now she has chosen as her companion for life, one with 
whom she has every rational prospect of happiness, 
obeying the injunction to marry in the Lord. May your 
precious lives, dear friends, be spared to each other — 
may you grow in grace and in the knowledge of God. 
Then, while journeying through your earthly pilgrim- 
age, you will taste life's sweetest joys, be prepared for 
its sorrows, if they come, and enter at last into that 
rest for the people of God. You make me ashamed, 
sister IL, of my inefficiency, when I see how constantly 
you are engaged in promoting the happiness of all whom 
providence places within your reach. When I compare 
myself with you, I feel as if I had done nothing that 
cost me any sacrifice or self-denial. All that I have 
done has been so easy and pleasant that I often reproach 
myself as bearing no cross. And life with me is ebbing 
fast ; soon, very soon, will the night of death come and 
close all my earthly labors. Pray for me, dearest, that 
I may be more diligent and efficient in my Master's 
cause. You ask after our health. Mr. Bacon's is very 
good, though he is just now afflicted with a cold. Mine 
is not good at all, and yet no one would judge from my 
appearance that I had any aches or pains. But I feel 
that life may soon terminate with me ; all I desire is t^ 


"be prepared to go joyfully when my snmmons comes. 
Oh, for that faith which will enable me to welcome 
death, ' the end of cares, the end of sins/ 

" My niece, Anna S , is with us altogether, except 

occasional visits to her family at Sandwich. She went 
down there this winter to spend Thanksgiving, and 
found a sick brother rapidly declining with quick con- 
sumptioik He w^as a medical student and a very prom- 
ising young man. He was two years older than Anna, 
and one in whom many hopes were clustered ; alas ! 
only to fcide. His mother feels it deeply but bears the 
blow like a Christian. He was her youngest son ; and 
from being so near to Anna in age, was her favorite 
brother and companion. He was expecting to study 
practice in the Hospital, and w^e w^re promising our- 
selves much pleasure from having him with us. But 
God prepared him and then took him to himself 

*' My dear Harriet, there is one part of your letter 
which it really requires some philosophy to read with 
patience. It is the information that you came so near 
to us and yet w^e did not meet. I verily believe that 
you w'ere in New York at the same time that w^e were. 
Why could w^e not have known it ? I visited our old 

friends, the S family, and had a most delightful 

time. Mr. and Mrs. S. are not much altered during the 
years since w^e met. Her hair is of the same beautiful 
golden hue, and shades her open white brow as sweetly 
as ever. We talked of you and all dear friends at 
Sackett's ; nor did we part until we had once more knelt 
at a throne of grace to supplicate blessings for them and 
for ourselves. This reminded me forcibly and touch- 


inglj of the times wlien our little band used to meet 
and mingle our prayers with you and others wlio liave 
entered the ' better land.' 

" We visited Staten Island and the Seamen's Retreat, 
and Snug Harbor, located there. These are most excel- 
lent establishments for the comfort of the poor sailor. 
The Snug Harbor was the gift of a noble sea captain. 
His remains are interred under a splendid marble mon- 
ument in front of the house. The monument is sur- 
rounded by an iron railing, within which are beautiful 
weeping willows, rose bushes and other shrubbery. The 
building and every thing within and around it, are as 
handsome and convenient as could be desired. This 
establishment is expressly for old and disabled seamen, 
who have no home or friends to take care of them. 
When I saw it I did wish I had a few of some people^ s 
hoarded, rusty dollars, to build such an one in our own 
State. I do think the generous donor appropriated his 
money most admirably. AVe have been enabled to send 
some of our poor sailors there. 

" What a difference a few years has made in the 
speed of traveling. When we went to Sackett's Harbor 
in 1816, it took us twenty-four hours to get from Boston 
to New Haven. Now we left Boston at seven in the 
morning, reached Nl-w Haven at one, P. M., and taking 
thence a steamboat to New York, took our tea in the 
latter city at seven in the evening. However, it is cer- 
tainly not to my taste to travel with lightning speed ; 
for I wish to see something of the country as I travel, 
and to he whirled past every pleasant or interesting 
spot, is very tantalizing. 

" In August we took Anna and went ' down East,^ 


never having seen that far-famed locality. Wc felt 
well paid for our journey ; every thing was most propi- 
tious to our enjoyment, and we had a delightful time, 
Anna's company and pleasure adding much to our own. 
We left home on Monday morning, took seats in the 
seven o'clock train of cars at East Boston, and arrived 
at Portland at twelve. Mr. Bacon has a married sister 
(the wife of a Baptist clergymen) residing at P., and 
with them we stayed until Tuesday noon. We then 
emharked on a steamer to sail up the Kennebec to 

Augusta. Tlie K is a beautiful river, whose banks 

are ornamented with fine thrifty villages. On Wednes- 
day we rode from Augusta across the country forty 
miles to Belfast. This part of our journey was per-, 
formed in the good old-fashioned way, by a stage-coach. 
We had fine, strong horses, and a good driver ; so away 
we went over hill and dale enjoying every object worth 
looking at. I saw some most splendid trees ; and was 
foolsih enough to v\'ish some v»-ere on the Hospital 
grounds at home. If wisliino- would have wafted them 
there, I am sure the grounds would have been finely 
ornamented ere our return. From Belfast we went by 
steamboat in three hours to Bangor, which is a fine city 
huilt on two Idlls. Here my husband had a niece resid- 
ing, with whom we took tea and passed a very pleasant 
evening, after riding around the city and admiring its 
beauties. The next morning we started for home, going 
down the Penobscot to Portland, which we reached on 
Priday evening. Here we tarried with our dear mother 
Bacon and children ; and a sweet and quiet Sabbath 
prepared us for our ride home in the cars on Monday. 
Portland is a lovely city. Its elms vie with those at 


'New Haven bolli in numbers and magnitude. We 
visited the spot where the remains of the sainted Payson 
rest, with feelings of veneration and love. But I must 
close, or my descriptions will weary your patience. 
Husband joins me in fervent regards to you and yours, 
as well as to all our dear friends at the Harbor. 
"I am, in the best of bonds, 

" Your sister Lydia.'' 

The next letter is addressed to the same friend more 
than a year after the preceding, with congratulations 
upon a most interesting occasion — the birth of her first 
grandchild. It is dated 

''3IarcJi 19th, 1849. 
" My very dear sister: — Most sincerely do I rejoice 

with you that your dear H has become the joyful 

mother of a living child. Dear little Hattie, who 
used to run to meet us with open arms, shouting with 
eager tones, ' here is Uncle, here is Auntie f what a 
lovely childliood was hers. How tenderly was she 
reared by her parents, who, receiving her as a lent bless- 
ing, brought her up for God, ever holding her at his 
divine disposal. Well has he rewarded you for this 
full surrender, by sparing her to you so long, and giving 
her dear father the privilege of seeing her choose the 
Lord for her portion ere he was called away. Verily, 
< they that trust in the Lord shall want no good thing.' 
And now this dear one has in turn, one committed to 
her to be trained ' in the nurture and admonition of the 
Lord.' Oh, may she have wisdom and strength given 
her to discharge aright her sweet and lioly duties. 


" It gives US great pleasure to hear that her health 
and yours is so good. This is a blessing which few 
appreciate as they should. My imagination loves to 
dwell around your home ; and in thought I see you with 
grateful acknowledgment of God's goodness, engaged in 
making others happy. How delightful, could I step in 
,as in former days, and receive your cordial greeting. 
We feel very grateful for your kind invitation to visit 
you ; hut fear we shall not he able to accomplish so 
desirable an object this season. You must not let any 
thing prevent your visiting us, should you come this 
way. We are still at the Hospital, and things remain 
much as they were when you were here. A new Admin- 
istration has taken the reins of government, and it is 
expected there will be some changes ; but we do not 
anticipate a removal. My husband's health is good and 
mine is very tolerable. I am thankful to be enabled to 
perform my customary and most interesting duties ; and 
grateful, I trust, that my situation enables me to be 
useful without much bodily fatigue. I couhl not fill 
any sphere of labor which required great physical activ- 
ity ; as I am still troubled with that affection of the 
heart which forbids all violent exercise. I expect this 
disease will end my mortal career sooner or later, and 
probably in a sudden manner. My own feelings as well 
as ihe repeated instances of the kind which fall under 
my own observation, warn me that ' in an hour when I 
think not,' the Son of man will come. Dear sister, I 
ask your prayers that I may live in constant readiness 
for this great event. 

" What a momentous age we live in ! What strange 
things are taking place in our world ! Kings are flee- 


ing from tlicir tliroiics, and tlio Pope losing liis glory 
and power. Error is overwliclmed with the rapid marcli 
of the Gospel truth ; and all things seem tending 
toward the ushering in of that day so long predicted, 
when ' all shall know iho Lord.' In every direction we 
hear of revivals of relio^ion. After such a lone: declen- 
sion it is indeed joyful tidings that the Spirit of the 
Lord is visiting not only our highly favored land, but 
other countries. Even the Islands of the sea, with their 
abundance, are being converted unto God. Our village 
is sharing in the rich effusions of the Holy Spirit ; and 
many of our youth are earnestly seeking the pearl 
of great price. It is so delightful to see tlie young 
consecrating the morning of their days to Christ. Our 

own A , though naturally amiable and not opposed 

to the truth, still remains unmoved and seems to rest 
satisfied without a hope in Christ. Though admonished 
of her own frailty by the sudden departure in two suc- 
cessive years of a beloved brother and sister, she still 
defers the great work of preparing to meet her God. I 
am distressed on her behalf, and beg you will join your 
prayers to mine that she may not put off this great 
work till her probation is forever closed. We have a 
boy whom the Lord sent us last summer, in whose wel- 
fare I am much interested. Last May a man was 
brought here severely injured by a fall into tlie ]iold of 
a vessel. After lingering awhile in much suffering, he 
expired. His son, a boy of fourteen years, had accom- 
panied him from Ireland ; and wlien he was brought to 
the Hospital, this lad was left at a common sailor's 
boarding-house in Boston. Here he staid for some time 
until he became anxious at not hearing from his father ; 


and coming to Chelsea to make inquiries, lie found liim 
in his coffin ! The poor child was overwhelmed with 
grief; and the consciousness of his situation without 
mone}^ or friends, or home, made him almost frantic. 
Our sjmipathies were strongly moved, and our first 
thoughts were to rescue him from his present distress 
by sending him hack to his friends in Ireland. But he 
gave a sorrowful negative to our proposal, saying that 
he had nothing to do there, and that his mother was 
too poor to take care of him. * Would he like to be a 
sailor ? ' was the next question. ' No, he did not like 
the sea, and should rather do any thing else than go 
again upon the ocean.' After keeping him a few days 
till we could form some little judgment of his capacity 
and disposition, husband gave him the offer to stay and 
work for him ; asking him ' if he w^ould be a good boy ?' 
* Indeed, sir,' said he, ' I would be as good as ever I 
could.' Thus far he has redeemed his promise. He 
was brought up a decided Catholic ; had partaken the 
wafer ; been to mass, and confession strictly, and had 
all the superstitions of his sect well rooted in his mind. 
But being a shrewd and sensible boy, as soon as the 
errors and delusions of his religion were pointed out to 
him, he saw and frankly acknowledged them. His in- 
quiring mind soon learned to discriminate between 
truth and error. The Bible was placed in his hands, 
and lie soon read it through, re-perusing many parts of 
it, and committing whole chapters to memor}-. The 
Assembly's Catechism he has recited to me, and under- 
stands it well. The old-fashioned Primer is now in his 
hands, with the good sayings and inimitable poetry of 
the ' Cradle Hymn,' * John Eogers,' and even ' Youno; 


Timothy.' I have lived my childhood over again in 
hearing him repeat these familiar and most excellent 
sayings. The Primer lies on the ' what-not/ iyi my best 
room, and there it sliall ever have a place. I both love 
and venerate it; and take more delight in reading it 
now than when I was a child. Besides these books I 
gave the boy D'Aubigne's History of the Eeformation. 
He read it with the avidity of a man eating his first 
meal when starving with hunger. Many other good 
books he has also perused, reading much of them aloud 
to me, while I sat at my sewing, and frequently stopping 
to make his comments or inquiries. He is a very good 
reader, and has quite a decent education, having been 
three years at the National school. He will be put to 
some good trade or business as soon as we can find the 
rio;ht thino; for him. Meanwhile he will remain with us, 
and we shall do all we can for him temporally and spir- 
itually. Ho attends church with us, and also the 
Sabbath school, of which he is very fond. He treasures 
up the preaching in his memory and can repeat most of 
it when he comes home. We hope that he is now seek- 
ing his soul's salvation. He appears like a sincere and 
earnest inquirer. The visit from our former beloved 

pastor, Mr. B , was delightful to us. To hear his 

voice once more in prayer and in pleasant converse, and 
to have the privilege of receiving him as our guest, was 
a treat indeed. 

'* Husband unites with me in love to yourself, to Har- 
riet and her husband, not forgetting the welcome little 
stranger. Da, my dear sister, write often, and greatly 
oblige your most affectionate, 

" L. B. Bacon." 


The writer well remembers the affecting case of the 
Irish Orphan, described in the foregoing letter. It was 
a beautiful afternoon in the month of June when Mrs. 
Bacon's niece, with one or two young companions, made 
me a visit ; bringing with them a parcel of cotton upon 
which they most industriously commenced operations. 
They were sewing for the desolate and destitute orphan ; 
and with hearts glowing with compassion and tender- 
ness, related to me his sorrowful story. The poor lad 
was soon comfortably clothed ; and cheered by tbe kind- 
ness and generosity with which he was treated, soon 
became contented and happy. I often saw him at the 
Louse of my friend, who, much delighted with the 
attainments and rapid improvement of her protege, 
occasionally invited me to test his knowledge in gram- 
mar and arithmetic, or to hear his reading which was 
quite correct and intelligent. 

^' During the winter, his kind protectors sent him to 
the public school, where his progress in learning, under 

the tuition of Mr. H , the accomplished teacher of 

the ' Boys' Grammar School,' was rapid and praisewor- 
thy. The pious zeal of Mrs. Bacon was not, however, 
rewarded by the lad's conversion, although he became a 
decided Protestant. He maintained a reo;ular and affec- 
tionate correspondence with his mother, sending her (as 
soon as he could command any wages) as much of his 
earnings as he could spare. She, of course, bitterly 
deplored his renunciation of Popery, and strove with all 
a mother's energy and a papist's zeal, to win him back 
to the faith of his fathers. But her efforts were fruit- 
less. Her boy had reached a country where the people 
dare to think for themselves; and the full blaze of gospel 


light had forever chased away the darkness of ' the Man 
of Sin.' 

" I will only say further respecting this lad (now 
grown to manliood) that after staying with his friends 
as long as was thought best, he was helped to a situation 
as a mechanic, in which he still lives and labors. 
Should this account meet his eye, may the memory of 
Mrs. B's kindness and Christian love, melt his heart." 

To Mrs. T . 

" Szptember 3c?, 1849. 

•'* My dear sister : — I think it high time that we 
should recognize each other's existence at least by ex- 
changing a few lines. I do not know but I sliall forget 
how to use my pen, for I Iiave not written a letter this 
summer. I said summer, but ah ! the summer has fled 
never to return, and many with it have gone to the land 
of silence. Death is doing his strange work here at a 
fearful rate. I do not mean in the Hospital, for although 
we have had more patients this season than ever before, 
and now number one hundred and thirty, we have had 
but four deaths in the last two months. No cases of 
cholera have occurred here as yet, but we cannot tell 
how soon it may come. The patients are packed too 
close ; the upper hall is full of beds, and the wards have 
double the number that is common. 

" AVe have been thinking of a visit to Sandwich, but 
at present we shall not be able to come ; it is about as 
much as we can do to find beds and bedding. I have 
not been away to pass a day the wliole summer. I have 
double care and anxiety because Mrs. , [one of her 


most efficient assistants,] is gone. I hope she may 
return hy-and-bye. She has left the situation which she 
took in Boston ; the confinement and bad air injured 
her health. She has now gone into the country for a 
few weeks, and I think if she gets better she may 
return here. She is an excellent woman, and is very 
much missed in the Hospital. 

*' I spoke of the sickness in town ; the dysentery is 
the prevailing disease, and is unusually fatal here this 
season. You remember the two dear children of our 
pastor. I am sure you will be shocked when I tell you 
that their sweet little Nettie is dead, and Cyrus is not 
expected to live. The day previous to the commence- 
ment of their sickness, Josiah and myself with some 

others took tea at Mr. L 's. As I entered the yard 

they both bounded to meet me, apparently in perfect 
health, blithe and happy as two little fawns. Their 
gayety struck me forcibly, recalling the days of happy 
childhood. Each of them gave me a kiss and a hand, 
and leading me to the house, waited upon me up stairs 
to lay aside my bonnet and shawl, and then accompanied 
me to the parlor. During the afternoon they seemed 
perfectly happy, and the propriety and sweetness of 
their behavior left an impression on our minds never to 
be erased. Before the next morning they were both 
taken sick with the dysentery, and the little girl lived 
but one week. Her dear parents felt the blow most 
deeply, but have set their people an example of Christ- 
ian resignation. Mr. L said ' the day little Nettie 

was buried was one of the happiest of his life, on 
account of the felt presence of his Saviour.' ' It 
seemed,' he said, ' as if while my heavenly Father with 


one luiiid was crushing me to tlie earth, witli the otlier 
he sustained my fainting spirit, bound up my bruised 
and bleeding heart, and poured in the sweetest and 
most bk'ssed consolations.' The dear child was buried 
upon tlie Sabbath. The coffin was borne from the house 
to the cliurch by some young lads on Sabbath afternoon. 
The seivices were conducted by Dr. Edward Beecher 
and Mr. Kirk, and were most appropriate and affecting. 
The little boy was not expected to live through the day, 
and it was a solemn funer.l to us all. I tliink I never 
passed such a Sabbath. My feelings were different from 
any tiling whith 1 hr.d ever expeiienced before ; I can- 
not describe them. Eternity seemed very near, and 
the vail which hides it from our sioht seemed very thin. 


" S'pt 4:th. Little Cyrus is still living, although a 
great si.fferer. But it is thought he cannot continue 
many hours. Many other families are suffering with 
the same disease ; some are already bereft. Thus the 
tenderest ties are being broken, and the mourners go 
about the streets. 

" Sept. 'oth. Dear little C. has gone ; his happy 
spirit, released from the sick and suffering tenement, 
has fled to the arms of his Saviour, who said, ' Suffer 
little thildren to come unto me.' If the best of atten- 
tion and skill couhl have saved his life he would not 
have died. But God saw what was best for him, and 
for his afflicted parents, who are now childless. And 
though they know not now the reasons for this double 
stroke, the time will come when all these mysteries 
shall be explained. These children were lovely in life, 


and in death scarcely divided. Cjrus knew not that 
his sister had gone before him ; -what will be his sur- 
prise to meet her in glory ! But I must close, with a 
kind remembrance to all. 

*' Yours ever, 

" L. B. Bacon." 

To Mrs. E. C. B. 

" April 20tJi, ] 850. 

" My very dear E.: — Most thankfully do I acknowledge 
the re eipt of your long expected letter. I lejoice 
again to recognize your own dear handwriting, and to 
be assured of your welfare. Olten do we tliink and 
speak of your sAveet though short visit to us. Shall we 
not praise God that in his kind providence he permitted 
us to meet under such pleasant circumstances. Can we 
not say emphatically that all our heavenly Father's 
dealings with us have bi'cn replete with mercies. And 
although we have both been afflicted, yet were not even 
these blessings in disguise? Even the intirmities of 
our poor frail bodies are sent in kindness to admonish 
us of our approaching dissolution, and warn us to be 
ready for our summons when it shall come. Oh, let us 
love to anticipate the hour when our trials, doubts and 
fears will all be over, and in the presence of our Saviour 
we shall worship the triune God without sin, hateful, 
dreadful sin! Remember your unwcrthy friend, dear 
E , at a throne of grace, and pray that I may at the 
last be found on the rioht hand of the Judo-e. 

" Thank you, dearest, for particulars respecting your 
beloved family at Sackett's. How delightfid it would 
be to meet them all once more under that hospitable 


roof. Do remember us with great aflection to them 

all, not forgetting cousin G 's family, for whom we 

shall ever retain the warmest friendship. We had a 

little visit from Dr. H last winter, and were very 

much pleased with him. We only regretted that we 
could not have seen him more. Our good Mrs, 

McL has been called again to mourn: her son 

James having deceased at California. He had obtained 
a good situation there with very fair prospects. His 
brother, the doctor, with whom the climate did not 
agree, had concluded to return home; but just on the 
eve of departure he was called to the sick and dying 
bed of Ins brother. He attended him faithfully, but 
his disease was very violent, and he had to bury him in 
that land of strangers. 

'' We have been called to part with another of our 

dear nephews. G , the second son of my sister 

J , died of consumption in March. He was a young 

man of iwin'y-five, of superior abilities, and with much 
to live for ; of course death was to him unexpected and 
undesirable. But ere it came, he sought, and, (we 
trust,) found the Saviour. His end was peace, calmly 
and without a struggle falling asleep in Jesus. 

" The husband of our L., (Dr. Judd,) has been in 
Boston on his way to England, whither he goes on 
business f ;r King Kamehameha, I believe to negotiate 
a treaty with Great Britain. He stopped but a short 
timi", l)Ut on his return he will pass some time in the 
United States, and I presume will visit your part of the 
country. He has two of the native princes with him. 

*' 1 am very sorry to hear that brother Gallagher's 


health is so poor. When lie was here and told me of 
his labors I thought he would not be able to endure 
them long. We were anxious to hear whether your 

dear S is at Mount Holyoke school, but could learn 

nothing about her from the young lady who goes from 
Chelsea. I shall be as well satisfied if she remains at 
home — ' sweet home/ — with parents so well qualified to 
teach her. I hope and trust your dear children will 
repay you for all your anxiety and care. IMay they 
each be living members of the household of faiih. 

" Husband joins me in most affectionate remembrances 
to you and yours, and hopes that we shall soon have the 
pleasure of seeing you, Providence permitting. Mr. 
Langwortliy desires his affectionate regards to yourself 
and husband. His health is not good, although he 
labors as abundantly as ever. I am most sincerely, 

'* Yours, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

A word in reference to the royal family of the 
Sandwich Islands, spoken of in the preceding letter. 
The king referred to, on whose bidialf T)i\ J add was 
then journeying to England, was Kamchameba Tiiird, 
who deceased a few months since. At the present date, 
(Feb. IGth, 1855,) the latest intelligence is as fallows: 
"The first appearance in public of his present Majesty 
King Kamehameha 4th was on Sunday, the 21st of Dec, 
in the house of God. He led his sister, her royal Highness 
Princess Victoria, and was followed by the ministers of 
the late King. The latter had offered iheir resignations 
to his present Majesty, but had been requested to retain 
office for the present at least." The new king is one of 


the royal princes spoken of in Mrs. Bacon's letters as 
traveling in this country and England with Dr. Judd, in 

To Mrs. E. C. B. 

''August Sill, 1850. 

*' I did not intend, my dear E., that your letter 
should have remained so lono; unanswered. I am 
always glad to hear from you, and your last letter was 
douLly welcome. I hope ere this your dear Sophia and 
her father have regained their health, and that you are 
all in circumstances of mercy and comfort. Perhaps 
this may find you at the loved homestead at the Harbor ; 
long may you be favored with such a retreat. I did 
hope we might be able to compass a visit to you this 
season. But it will not be expedient to leave our post 
at present long enough to perform such a journey with 
comfort. I cannot with impunity bear the fatigue of 
rapid traveling, as I could have done twenty years ago. 

*' Mr. Bacon has been quite unwell since June, and 
though now better has still to be careful. He went to 
Washington on business for the Hospital, and the heat 
which was so excessive overcame him much. This, 
together witli the quantities of iced water which he from 
necessity drank, made him for a time very sick. Then 
he had been denied his usual sleep in consequence of op- 
pressive air in small confined lotlging rooms, whicli con- 
trasted so miserably with his large airy cli amber at 
home. He would not have gone had he dreamed of 
suffering so much from the heat. But he had long 
wished to visit the seat of government, and as he had 


business which rendered it desirable for him to go, and 
be could do it without expense to himself, it seemed too 
good an opportunity to be misimproved. But how little 
do w^e know what is best. Though he succeeded in his 
business, his life w^as w^ell nigh sacrificed ; never befure 
have I seen him so prostrated. Thanks to a kind 
Providence he now seems to be gaining. 

" Oar dear pastor's health w^as poor through the 
winter, and in the spring he had a most generous offer 
of a free voyage to Europe, which it was thought best 
he should accept. He w^ent in great haste, having only 
one week to think of and prepare for his journey. =■•' '■- 
o o o y(e hope he will be home in October. He writes 
most interesting communications from the different places 
which ho visits. In London he passed some hours with 
my husband's brother, who has resided there for many 
years. He has reared a lovely family in that great 
metropolis, all of w^hom, Mr. L. writes, are worthy 
descendants of the New England stock. We do want 
to see our dear pastor very much. The Lord spare him 
and return him to us in due time. His wife and family 
are well. The little son born last O^^tober is a very 
sweet child, and helps to beguile his mother's lonely 
hours during his father's absence. 

" And now, my dear E., I would ask, did you see Dr. 
Judd ? I hope you did, as I know the pleasure it would 
give you. We had a delightful call from him with the 
princes. A longer time could not be devoted to us, as 
their time was so closely occupied during their stay 
in the city, which was necessarily short. The princes 
were tired with beino; ' lions/ and sio-hed for their own 
dear iJaud home. They were truly elegant young 


men, dignified yet social, and hope to Le able to do 
mucli for their race when tliey return. The young heir 
to the crown I tliought very manly, and think lie will 
make a noble and elegant Christian monarch if he lives 
to succeed to his father's throne. May God spare his 
life and that of his brother, and make them instruments 
of good to their country and to His cause. 

"Dr. Judd I think an interesting man. It was very 

gratifying to me to see L 's husband. He spoke in 

the highest terms of his wife, saying that she had been 
every thing to him, not only relieving him from 
domestic cares, but accomplishing much beside by her 
example and influence. 

" I am grieved to hear that the health of your dear 
Sophia is so imperfect, and hope she may gain relief 
from her journey. Yet I must be permitted to say that 
although such changes are sometimes doubtless beneficial 
to the health, yet in my opinion rest, entire rest from all 
care and excitement is letter. For there are no comforts 
like home comforts ; and the excitement generally 
attendant upon traveling, especially at the present day, 
often counteracts all the benefit hoped for from a change 
of air and scene. Thus I fear that our dear pastor will 
not derive the good which he desires and expects from 
his foreign tour. With his active temperament and 
ardent susceptibilities I am afraid he will not keep still 
long enough to know what rest is, and thus will defeat 
the principal end proposed and wished for by us all. But 
why do I speak of rest here ? There is not much for 
any one: this world and its inhabitants are made for 
action. Bat there is a rest which remaineth for the 
people of God. Let us look forward, dear E., to that 


rest, preparing ourselves for it by tlie cultivation of a 
meek and quiet spirit, and perfect resignation to our 
heavenly Father's Avill. May we have grace to fill our 
allotted sphere on earth, and at last to meet our Saviour 
and Judge with joy unspeakable. Meanwhile I remain 
now and ever, 

" Your most sincerely attached, 

'' Lydia B. Bacon." 

To Mrs. C. 

^'January 14, 1851. 

'' My dear sister and friend : — By a paper from your 
son Walter, and subsequently a letter from sister H. B., 
we were informed of the death of our dear brother in 
Christ, yonr beloved husband. This was sad tidings 
indeed to ns who so well knew his excellences and 
virtues. We hasten to tender you our warmest sympa- 
thies in this your great bereavement. How our hearts 
swell vrith emotion as we call to mind his kindness to 
us as individuals, as neighbors, and as friends in the 
bonds of Christian love. The church too is left to mourn 
one who could ill be spared. All his consistent conduct 
as a follower of Christ, his indefatigable zeal and per- 
severance in his Master's cause, are among the sweet 
recollections of the past, ' links in memory's chain ' 
never to be broken. May his mantle fall on one who in 
all things will adorn as he did the doctrines he professed. 

" My dear sister, I know that in your present grief 
vain is human help and sympathy. It is only firm faith 
in your heavenly Father that can at all assuage such 
sorrow. The confidence that He doeth all thin^^s well • 
the assurance that your dear husband, the companion of 


your youtli, has gone Avliere pain and sin can no more 
disturb him or mar liis perfect blessedness — these are 
the most timely solace in an hour like this. Think of 
him, then, as now enjoying the immediate presence of 
that Saviour whom not having seen he loved ; and as 
rejoicing in all the ways and in all the means v/hich God 
employed to bring him to that blessed^abode. This will 
calm your grief and make it settle into that quiet, holy 
resignation wliich says, ' Thy will, oh God, be done.' 
Thus will you be enabled still to perform your accus- 
tomed duties, both temporal and spiritual, as well as the 
new responsibilities which will novv' devolve upon you. It 
will not be long before you and I shall be called to pass 
over Jordan, and tread its cold waves after those who 
have gone before us. I have reason to think that time 
may be very near with me. Oh, may I be prepared for 
tlie solemn exchange of v\'orlds. 

" We often think and speak of you, dear friend, and 
your repeated kindnesses, (especially when we were 
neighbors in Ambrose street,) are among the most 
pleasant recollections of the past. As I recall those 
scenes when Mr. B. boarded with you : the meetings, the 
Sabbath school, the pleasant social intercourse in which 
your husband's image and your own are ever blended, 
my heart throbs, my eyes overflow with tender memories. 
Oh, Sackett, ' with all thy faults, I love thee still.' A 
few^ of those first friends there are yet in being, some 
are gone home and others are widely scattered. Some 

of the latter we occasionally meet. Mr. G has 

been to see us, Mr. B , with his wife and daughter, 

and some others. 

"We enjoy tolerable health. Husband's is much 


better than mine; but bis is not that perfect bealtb 
wbieb was bis treasure for so many years. Yet we are 
tbankful tbat it is as well witb us as it is, for we bave 
great mercies. One of tbe greatest is tbat we are in a 
situation wbere we can be bigbly useful. We bave tbe 
best of opportunities under tbe roof wbere we dwell, of 
being useful botb to tbe souls and bodies of our fellow- 
men. Husband and myself find enougb to do for tbe 
poor neglected sailor, and do not attempt to labor in tbe 
Sabbatb scbool as at Sackett's. In ours we are nob 
needed, tbere being teacbers enougb witbout us, and our 
duty is plain. At tbe bour for Sabbatb scbool on Sab- 
batb I go into tbe ward wbere tbe colored sailors are, 
and bold a Bible class witb tbem, spending an bour in 
conversation, reading and instruction, as I am able. 
Tbey all seem very mucb interested in tbe exercise. 
Sometimes I find a pious soul among tbem, and some- 
times a very intelligent one. We bave now over one 
bundred sick ones in tbe bouse ; one is dying, baving, as 
we trust, experienced religion upon bis sick-bed. 
Anotber, one of my Sabbatb pupils, is inquiring ' wbat 
be must do to be saved?' Oh, the responsibility of 
such a trust ! May tbe blood of souls never be found 
in our skirts ! Husband joins me in sympathy and best 
wishes. May this great loss be sanctified to you and 
your dear children. Let us bear from you when you 
feel able to write. I must close, for writing hurts my 
side badly. 

" Yours in love and tender sympathy, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 


To Mrs. E. C. B. 

'' Fehruary M, 1851. 

" When I received my clear Elizubetli's letter I fully 
intended to answer it immediately ; but upon turning 
to it for a second perusal, I find it is four weeks already 
since its reception. You know well enough, dear E., how 
we are situated, and can easily imagine that a month 
may pass away almost unnoticed. Your letter brought 
us tidings of sad changes among your dear relatives : 

the death of your grandmother and cousin G . Of 

the latter I had been previously informed. Truly we 
can say, ' a good man has fallen in Israel.' I know of 
no man for whom we had a higher respect and Christian 
love than for him. His great and uniform kindness to 
us will ever be engraven on our hearts. Your dear 
grandmother too ; every thing that ' is lovely and of 
good report ' is associated with her image. She was 
always ready to engage in every good word and work. 
How powerfully did her example stimulate me to action ; 
for with such a prompter and aid who could help going 
forward in the path of duty. And then how undeviating 
was her interest in our welfare: the same alike in our 
adversity as prosperity. I did hope I should be permit- 
ted to see her once more in this world ; but it may 
not be. Well, the time is coming, I trust, when we 
shall again join in the praises of redeeming love, even 
around our Father's throne. 

" You give a delightful account of your own house 
and garden. I congratulate you on the possession of 
such a charming retreat. I sincerely hope that you 
may long enjoy it, and that persevering in rest and quiet 
your beloved husband may enjoy conifoi'table health. 


We well remember tlio beautiful lake upon which you 
are situated. We crossed it on our return from Detroit, 
prisoners of war, in 1812. The banks were then being 
beautified with country seats and cultivated farms. I 
assure you the distance will not deter us from visiting 
you, should we be able to leave. Would it not be a de- 
lightful excursion hence to New York, then up the 
North Eiver, and so on to you ? The thought of it even 
is too good for such an unworthy worm as I. 

" We were glad to learn that you had so favorable an 
opportunity of seeing Dr. Judd and the princes. It 

was a great treat to us who knew dear L so well. 

By the papers we see that they have safely arrived at 
the Islands, and were received with demonstrations of 
joy and respect. 

" Our beloved pastor has returned from Europe with 
improved health, and a heart overflowing with love to 
God and man. He is longing, praying and laboring to 
see the Lord's work revived in this place. Our house of 
worship has become so full since his return that several 
families desiring to worship with us have been unable to 
obtain seats ; and the result is that we feel obliged to 

colonize. So with Mr. L and twenty families, as a 

nucleus for a new church and society, v^e commenced 
last Sabbath to worship in a Hall. The room is very 
pleasant, but the tvv'o flights of stairs which we must 
ascend are rather trying to persons whoso breath is short 
as mine. The remainder of the churcli remain in the 
neat and commodious edifice which you worshiped in 
when here. The attempt to build another churcli seems 
formidable, but in the strength of the Lord we will go 
forward. He has answered prayer by filling our house, 


and til lis has made it necessary to form aiiotliT cliuivli 
and build again, and will not lie cjntiiuie to It 
is a o-reat thing at our time of life to go over the same 
ground again : but we left it entirely with Providence 
to dispose* of us as he pleased. We would not decide 
for ourselves, but left it to the church to say whether 
we should go or stay. It is just as we would have had 
it, although we have not said so until it was decided. 
You may ask, why does the pastor go? It is something 
new, I know, to take the pastor, but we think he is a 
more suitable person for the enterprise than any one 
whom we could get. And besides, unless he would leave 
no on.i else ivould, or at least not a sufficient number to 
accomplish any thing. But we would not trust in man. 
The work is God's ; he alone can prosper any under- 
takino', and 'in his streno-th we will arise and build.' 
So while we have to rear a new edihce, our brethren 
who remain will have io find them a new minister. 
May God prosper Qnch branch in their arduous work. 

" AVe still continue to have large numbers of sick 
seamen : chore are now over one hundred. Some are 
very interesting cases. One has lately deceased, giving 
evidence of a happy exchange ; he was born in 
H.irtford, Conn. After traveling the mighty deep for 
some years, he was sent here to die of consumption. 
He has no mother or relative to mourn over his early 
exit, or soothe his dying bed, his family having all gone 
before him, although he was only twenty-six. I I'elt it 
a pi-ivilege to minister to his comfort both of soul and 
boJy. lie was patient, resigned, and grateful to 1 is 
heavenly Father and to around him. He was 
here for several months. The Sabbath on which ha 


died I went into his room to read the Bible and converse 
with him. Death was making rapid strides, his throat 
filling so that he could not take any food. But when I 
left him he hade me good-night most pleasantly, and 
soon after his spirit took its flight to that home which 
he had contemplated so often with peace and joy. 

" We have a colored sailor here, — a real African, — 
who has lost all his toes, and will he crippled for life. 
When he first came here, eight months ago, his feet 
were so had I could not go into his room ; hut I used to 
stand at the door and say a few words to comfort him, 
and as soon as his condition would allow me to sit 
heside him I did so. I found him very ignorant, know- 
ing only his letters. Feeling that he would have many 
weary hours ere his recovery I resolved to teach him to 
read. He can now read in easy lessons, and is very 
grateful to his instructor. I did not pursue the same 
course in teaching him that I would witli a child, hut 
gave him lessons in which he would get ideas as well as 
words, and this increased his interest. T want that he 
should he able before he leaves to read the Scriptures, 
that he may become v/ise unto salvation. He wishes to 
return to Africa, and will be sent by the Colonization 
Society next spring. Once more, dear E., adieu. 

"L. B. Bacon.'' 

To Mrs. E. C. B. 

''May 17th, 1851. 

" Ever dear E.: — Your esteemed favor, post-marked 
14th inst., is just received, and I thank you for this 
fresh proof of your affectionate remembrance. The 
kind feelings therein expressed I receive as the offering 


of tlic generous heart that dictated them, though far 
beyond the deserts of the friend whom you address. It 
is true that many of my poor attempts to perform my 
duty have been crowned with success. But it is all of 
God, whose loving kindness has strewn my path with 
flowers. Although my life has been like that of others, 
a varied scene of sorrow and joy, yet wdien I review it, 
the latter seems so to predominate as to obliterate all 
traces of the former. Only mercy seems written on 
every page of my long life, and I have so many good 
things here as to make me sometimes afraid that I am 
having them all in this world. Oh, may I have that 
faith wdiich is the gift of God, and without wdiich it is 
impossible to please him. Thus only shall I be enabled 
to fill the sphere which he has allotted me, and having 
the presence of my Saviour, go on my w\ay rejoicing. 
Oh, the forbearance of God tow^ards a guilty world ! 
and especially toward those who bear his name, with 
some of whom their profession is the only token of their 

" AVe saw our dear pastor last evening, and gave him 
your message. He received it with much pleasure, and 
returns you many thanks. The site for our new church 
is chosen, and the building will soon be commenced. 
Our village is thriving in temporals exceedingly, and 
there cannot fail of being a large population. The 
next time you visit us I hope you will have time to ride 
about and see it more than you were able to do in your 
last brief visit. You ask us many questions respecting 
our former life which we w^ould readily answer by letter, 
only that w^e have concluded — what do you think? — 
that ive will come and ansiver them in person. Yes, dear, 


we liavo resolved, Providence permitting, to visit you for 
a i'ew days daring the first or second u-eek in June. 
We propose to come by the way of New York and. 
Albany, as Anna will be with us, and she has never seen 
those cities. And bjsidcs, should we come by the way 
of the North River, we could pass a day with your dear 
Sophia at Catskill, if her health will admit of her 
seeing us. Now write us if you will be at home at the 
time proposed, and free IVom any engagements which 
would i-ender our visit inexpedient. Tell us frankly 

also what you think of our calling upon S . Do 

not encourage us to do so, unless you are sure it will be 
perfectly proper and agre/able. 

" We have heard nodiinii- frjm Mrs. Judd since the 
doctor's return, but presume you will hear so )n. Were 
you a-'quainted wiih him before he married, our friend ? 
I had never seen him before, but was very favorably 
impressed by our short interview. His manners are 
A'ery courteous and gentlemanly, and 1 should consider 
him a man of marked abilii}'. 

" 1 SfJi. Dear E., husband r.-ad my letter last even'ug^ 
and thinks 1 liave b.'en too posit ive in my calculations of 
visiting you this summer. 1 am therefoie obliged to 
qualify my promise by saying that if we can do so con- 
si:.->tently with other engagements we will. But if you 
have any ])hins i'or that m n'h, do n^it let us interfere 
witli them. Wiite jast how it is. 1 will only say that 
I do not give up the delightful hojje of sometime 
seeing you in year own dear home, which you d. scrihe 
so sweetly. 11, sband joins with Anna and s. If in much 
love to you all ; and as we may possibly see you ^oon, 


and ifc liurts mo to write mucli, I will close now with 
the promise of a longer letter next time. Adieu, my 
beloved. " Your affectionate, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

The journey which Mrs. Bacon was so desirous of 
taking to visit her friends in the State of New York, 
(both at Geneva and Sackett's Harbor,) she did accom- 
plish as proposed, and enjoyed it in the highest degree. 
"Never," said she to her friends upon her return, 
*' never was there a June so beautiful before. It really 
seemed as if the heavens and the earth conspired 
to heighten our enjoyment." The following was written 
immediately after her arrival home, describing the 
homeward route. 

To i\rrs. B — — d, of Geneva. 

'^June BOth, 1851. 

" My very dear Elizabeth : — I write to assure you of 
our safe return home. Our visit was so sweet and 
pleasant that, now it is over, I can find no words to 
describe it. It does rejoice my heart to have seen you 
so comfortably, so delightfully situated. Oh, may your 
life and health, and that of your dear family be spared 
to get good and do good. And may your love and 
gratitude to the iVuthor of all these blessings be com- 
mensurate with the benefits bestowed. How often since 
my return have I thought of the charming retreat at 
the bottom of your garden, where I spent such a pleasant 
morning vrith those dear little girls. It was enough to 
make any one happy to witness their enjoyment. As I 
listened to their exclamation of delight over their new- 


found treasures, a pebble, a leaf, or a sbell, and heard 
them ask, 'Isn't this beautiful,' or 'sweet,' or 'charm- 
ing,' 1 answered, ' Yes.' But m}- thought was, ' not half 
so charming, sweet, or lovely as yourselves.' When I 
saw them playing with their pet lamb, I breathed 
a silent prayer that th.^ir hearts might be led to * the 
Lamb of God wliich taketh away the sin of the world.' 
Our ride to Syracuse on our return was very pleasant. 
After tea, learning that Mrs. Heron was in the house 
where we stopped, we soon found our way to her room, 
and were received with much cordiality by herself and 
husband. Mi's. S. was also residing there with her 
daughter. I was very glad to see her, as she was a 
great favorite of mine in her youth, on account of her 
correct department. She looks so young still that I 
could scarcely bLdieve it when she told me she was a 
grandmother. An hour of svv-eet converse flew swiftly 
by, and we reluctantly parted to get our necessary rest, 
that we might rise early and take the cars for Oowego. 
We thouglit the ride to 0. very fine, though it was 
through a part of the country. The sail from thence 
to Sackett's was most delightful. Tlie air was cool and 
bracing, and we had sm otli water all the way. I need 
not, and I could not tell you my feelings on bjhohling 
that place endeared to me by a thousand tender reculLc- 
tions. It was there I joined th ■ people of God, and there 
His Spirit taught me in various ways that I, even /, had 
one talent to improve for him. Till then, I had lived 
without any realizing sen^e of my obligations. Oh, how 
long-suffeiing and patient is J. liovah with his rebellious 
and ungrateful creatures. ^My husband filt ratlier re- 
luctant to go to Sackett's, fearing that his feelings 


would be more pained than pleased, as tliere had been 
so many removals by deatli of those wlioni lie loved. 
But he is now glad he went, and thankfcd to those d<'ar 
friends who after the lapse of so many years greeted us 
■with sueh affectionate kindness. It was good to be in 
tlioir midst once more and join with them in prayer and 
praise. Good to see those men who commenced their 
Christian career in the Sabbath school now eWers in that 
church which first received their covenant obligation to 

be the Lord's. We dined with cousin J 's widow, 

and took tea with your dear father's family. Amid all 
the changes, it w^as pleasant to be in that same parlor 
once moi-e. How natural every thing looked, and your 
beautiful mother hardly altered at all. I saw thiee of 

your brothers ; E came from Oswego with us. 

Mrs. D is much the same, and her two daughters 

whom I saw are very pretty. One of them is very 
much like what her mother was at sixteen. On Satur- 
day afternoon we went to Watertown to see T. C's 
family. "We had a charming ride over the plank road, 
and Seward's Islaud we thought delightful. Widow C, 
though a sincere mourner for her husband, seems very 
happy in her children. Her sons are certainly very fine 
young men, and must be a great comfort to her. 
Parents cannot be too thankful when their sons as well 

as daughters are pious. I saw your brother G 's 

wafe and two of his children ; they were both beautiful 
How strano-e it seemed to see so mauy whom we left 
children now^ fathers and mothers themselves. Then I 
realized my own age more than ever before. I waa 

pleased with your sister H ; her frankness waa 

most amiable. We had quite a time over the flowers in 


the garden, and slie gave me some roots to take liome, 
besides promising me that if she comes to Boston she will 

certainly visit us. Mrs. B seems very happy in her 

dear children, and they are certainly precious ones. I 

admire Dr. H and do hope that he may be restored 

to health, although my fears are stronger than my hopes. 
" Wo left dear Sackett's on Monday noon, and after 
a most charming sail among the Thousand Islands, 
arrived at Ogdensburg at nine P. M. At ten the next 
morning we left 0., but being detained, did not reach 
Montreal until nine in the evening. The sail from 
Ogdensburg to Montreal vras truly magnificent. But 
too much of the awful mingles with the suUime in 
coming through those rapids for me ever to risk a second 
trip merely for j)leasure. It is exciting in the extreme. 
But the Almighty was our keeper. This is truly a 
wonderful river, and taking it as a vrhole, perhaps the 
most so in the world. And such a constant variety : 
from river to lake, then through the rapids, then amid 
boiling places like Hurlgate, only more terrible. During 
your passage through the rapids you would think there 
was a strong gale of wind, v»-hile at the same time 
on shore not a leaf could be seen moving. In passing 
the longest rapid I saw upon my right a steamer, which 
appeared as if poised in the air. It vras passing up the 
canal, and vras in a lock. We must have made a strange 
appearance to them. I thought of the observation of 
your dear children respecting the scenery at your lake, 
* that we were a picture to each other.' We became ac- 
quainted with a very pleasant lady and gentleman on 
the boat, who stopped with us at the same hotel in 
Montreal, and we rode around the mountain- together. 


This is a cliarming ride, commanding a view of a liiglily 
cultivated country. Indeed it looked like a beautiful 
garden spread out before us ; the distance round tlic 
mountain was about six miles, and the roads, (ascending 
and descending gradually,) were so fine that I think I 
never took a more pleasant drive. On the top of the 
mountain stands a noble building, the former residence 
of the Canadian Governor's. But since Lord Elgin's 
departure it has been converted into a public house- 
Its salubrious air, fine prospect and ample accommoda- 
tions allure many to this charming retreat. ^ '■^ '•'= 

" We made an acquaintance on the river with a Mr. 

C , a resident at Montreal, and found him a very 

intelligent gentleman who knew the whole route. He 
was like a guide book to us, giving us all needful infor- 
mation respecting different locations on the way. The 
Lachine Eapids we did not pass through. These are 
the last, and are very near to Montreal. Only the mail 
boat descends there. I was thankful that we were not 
obliged to, as they are the most terrific of all, being in 
one place quite perpendicular. The boat dashed in and 
under them like a duck, and I am told that some ladies 
like to go through them. Mr. C. told me that he had 
descended them in an open Canadian boat with women 
and children. This reminded me of the old boat song, 
* Eow, brothers, row.' 

*' We left Montreal on Thursday morning, going by 
boat nine miles, and then by the cars seventeen miles to 
St. John's. There we took a beautiful steamer up the 
Lake Champlain to Burlington. Our passage was most 
delightful, the eye being gratified all the way with 
interesting and pleasant sights, and the time beguiled 


with intelligent company. At Burlington we were 
made very comfortable. Good fare, and a comfortable 
bed in a large, airy room, refreshed and prepared ns for 
the hardest day's work of traveling which we had yet 
endured. This was a jaunt of two hundred and thirty- 
three miles in the cars, from Burlington to Boston. We 
left the former place at eight in the morning, and 
reached the latter at seven in the evening ! Having 
sent a notice of our return by the wires in the morning, 

our faithful S was in waiting with the carryall, and 

we soon arrived at our pleasant home. Here we found 
all things right, and were overwbelmed with the good- 
ness of our heavenly Father, who had guided and 
guarded us in our long and somewhat perilous journey. 
Never had we taken so long a one before except from 
imperative necessity, in the way of business. But this 
was solely for pleasure and mental profit, and I think 
few could say that they had traveled thirteen hundred 
miles with more ease and delight. 

" Our dear pastor is to leave next Monday with his 
wife and child on a visit to his father in Central New 
York. He has recently lost his mother, a dear and 
most excellent woman. 

** Husband and Anna join me in the strongest 
expressions of love to you all. Accept many thanks 
for your kindness and attentions during our sojourn 
with you. The savor of that visit will long continue, 
and the beautiful places to which husband gave a name 
will not soon be forgotten. Write soon, my dear E. ; 
every thing that interests you will find a quick response 
in our hearts. 

" I am, as ever, your affectionate, 

" Lydia B. Bacon." 


To Mrs. H. B. 

''Juhj lOth, 1851. 

" My very dear sister : — "We are exceedingly anxious 
to hear from you again, as the doctor was so unwell at 
the time we left you. We regretted very much not to 
see your good minister and his wife, and also Mrs. 

B . We understood the latter was to call upon us 

on Monday or we should have gone to see them. The 
time was so short that I could not do all I wished. Mr. 
Bacon being out so much had a much better opportunity 
than I of seeing the people. Now that my visit is over, 
it seems more like a pleasant dream than a waking 
reality. I ask myself, is it possible that I have been 
ao-ain at Sackett's ? that I have there met once more 
the dear friends with whom I used to take ' sweet 
counsel and go to the house of God in company ' ? Our 
journey was delightful from beginning to end ; not an 
unpleasant circumstance occurred to mar our enjoyment. 
Tell dear Harriet that we experienced no discomfort 
from the roughness of the passage to Kingston. We 
met some delightful company on board the boat, who 
were our fellow-passengers to Montreal, and stopped 
when there at the same public house. It was a new 
hotel near the Cathedral, quite in the centre of the city, 
called the St. Lawrence Hall. 

" I wish you had been with us to enjoy the trip down 
the St. Lawrence Eiver ; it must be seen to be under- 
stood ; words cannot describe its beauties. I never met 
with any thing before which more exalted my ideas of 
Almighty power and skill, than those rapids and the 
scenery which surrounds them. And that God should 
give to the human mind skill to navigate them and to 


go by steam where formerly nothing hut the light 
bateau of the Canadian dared to venture, is wonderful. 
I think Canada must be a fine country, though I should 
not wish to live there. I never was so sensible of the 
comparative j^'^omess of the soil in Massachusetts as in 
returning to the State after journeying through Yermont 
and New Hampshire. There may be, it is true, more 
skill and intelligence in our agriculture ; indeed there 
must be if we would wring from nature any thing like 
a fair return for our toil. Never would our State have 
been settled had it not been done before other and more 
fertile portions of the country were seen. But I presume 
the exertion necessary to bring the land into proper 
tillage, (especially in an age when the appliances to 
agriculture were fewer and ruder than at present,) was 
one means of producing such a hardy race of men as our 
ancestors were. 

" Now, my dear sister, will you not write soon, and 
tell us about the doctor's health. We want also to hear 
of the little darling, and her mother and grandmother. 

" You, my dear sister H , are very pleasantly 

situated, having what Thomson in his Seasons calls ' an 
elegant sufiiciency.' May you all live to enjoy many 
years, blessing and being blessed. Eeceive our heart- 
felt thanks for all your kindness to us when with you, 
and do not fail to give us an opportunity to return it 
ere long. Husband and Anna respond to all tiie kind 
feeling in this letter for you and yours. 

" Kiss little blue-eyed Hattie for me ; her sunny face 
is continually before me. Adieu. The Lord bless and 
keep you all, is the prayer of 

" Your unworthy friend, 

'' L. B. Bacon.'^ 


Soon after Mrs. Bacon's return from this long desired 
and much prized visit, her affectionate heart was 
wounded and her sympathies called fortli by the sudden 
and unexpected death of another nephew, tlic third 
child of the sister already twice so recently bereaved. 
Allusions to the death of this kinsman occur in several 
subsequent letters beside the following, wliich is ad-- 
dressed to his mother not long after the sad event. 

To Mrs. S. 

" August 7th, 1851. 

** My dear sister will excuse my not writing her ere 
this. I have very much wished to do so, but could not 
compose myself long enough at a time, with such con- 
stant calls. 

" Dr. I and his wife have taken a journey, leav- 
ing little E in my care. He is as little trouble as 

a child can be, yet the fear that something might 
happen to him in the absence of his parents has made 
me exceedingly anxious. Josiah has also been very 
unwell, and he is so unused to being really sick that it 
was pretty hard for him. However, he is better now, 
and the dootor has returned, so that I am relieved of 
my most pressing cares. None of these, I suppose, 
would be any trouble to one who was young and well ; 
but old age and infirmity, you know, make a world of 

" We have felt for you very much, dear sister, in your 
new and unexpected trial. Joseph was the last one 
whom I should have expected to come to a premature 
death. I always thouglit him a man of healthy and 
vigorous constitution, and expected he would live to be 


the prop of your old ago. But our heavenly Father 
has ordered it otherwise. Our only consolation is and 
must he that He is too wise to err, and too kind need- 
lessly to afflict. Oh, let us trust him stilL I have 
never knowni your trials experimentally in hurying 
promising children ; hut / have had those that required 
faith to hear, and still I w^ould say, ' though he slay me, 
yet will I trust in him.' Dear sister, while you mourn 
over your departed loved ones, let gratitude fill your 
heart for those that remain. I pray that they may 
still he spared, and continue to he a hlessing and a 
conifort to you. 

« ^ ». says some of my friends wondered that I 

could WTite such long letters ahout my journey. They 
cost me much pain, it is true ; hut I had enjoyed much, 
and ^vished to share that enjoyment wdth those wdio 
were not with me. It would he a poor delight to me 
■which I could not impart a portion of to others. 

*' We hope to see you here in the fall. Mrs. IM is 

ready to accompany you to New- York, and we shall 

depend upon a visit then. Love to sister T and all 

friends, from 

" Yours truly, 

'' Lydia.'^ 

To Mrs. B., of S. H. 

" August 9th, 1851. 
*'Your precious letter of July 23d was gratefully re- 
ceived. It afforded us pleasure to hear that Dr. H- 

"was no worse, hut w^as well enough to journey. I write 
this to say that we should ho most happy to sec 
him here to pass a week or more with us. He would 


have all the benefit of sea bathing and pure air, and we 
would try to make him comfortable as possible. Do 
you not think our plan would do ? We very much want 
him to get well, if it is our heavenly Father's will; 
for it docs seem as if he could not bo spared from his 
dear family and friends. I am very glad to hear little 
Harriet is better. May slie be continued to you all. 
But love her not too well. Earthly treasure is a ' broken 
reed/ to lean upon, and oft a spear 

* On sharp point peace bleeds and hope exph-es.' 

But this is a needless caution, perhaps, to you, and surely 
comes with an ill grace from one who has not had half 
the discipline and experience which it has been your lot 
to bear. I recollect your once telling me that you Jiad 
tried every rope in the ship ; and I know your faith has 
been an example to ns all. The recollection of my 
visit to you, how vivid, how delightful ! It will afford 
food for memory to feast npon for a long time to come. 

Abby T is longing to hear an account of it from 

my own mouth, for she, too, was deeply interested in 
Sackett's Harbor friends. 

" Soon I suppose the C family will assemble to 

witness the nuptials of Miss H . 3Iay every thing 

be propitious to the happy occasion. Mr. B , I un- 
derstand, is to tie the knot indissoluble. Eemember us 

to them all, and say to H that the violet she gave 

me bore the journey home and is carefully cherished 
for her sake. Our dear Anna has been much afflicted 
in the unexpected death of her second brother, thirty- 
nine years of age. He had been residing in St. Louis 


twelve years or more. For about eiglit months lie had 
been indisposed, with cough and pain in his side, but 
never told his friends. He tried the cod-liver oil, but 
without effect, and at length became so feeble that his 
physician advised him to try his native air. He set out 
for home, being obliged frequently to stop to gather 
strength to proceed. When at length he reached his 
mother's, he entered, looking like a corpse. What a 
shock to his friends, who had not heard he was sick, 
and did not know that he intended visiting them ! 
Four weeks from the time he entered the house he was 
carried from it to his burial. that this afflictive event 
may be sanctified to Anna ! She feels her loss deeply ; 
may it teach her the uncertainty of life, and the neces- 
sity of immediate preparation to meet the summons 
which must sometime come to her. This is the third 
severe blow which has come to her in less than four 
years. Two brothers and a sister in this short period 
have fallen victims to this dread destroyer. Pray for this 
dear child, that her heart may be softened, and that 
she may now make her peace with God, and become a 
happy follower of the Eedeemer." 

" Yours ever, 

"L. B. Bacon." 

To Mrs. B d. 

" Septemher, 1851. 

" How delightful it would be, my precious E , 

could I just step into your sweet home and enjoy an 
hour's chat, instead of telling you my thoughts on paper. 

* This prayer has been graciously answered in the hopeful con- 
version of this young relative. 


But as this cannot bo, I am truly thankful for so good 
a medium of communication as pen and ink ; for one 
of my greatest earthly comforts is that of holding con- 
verse with you and yours. My visit renewed and deep- 
ened all my former interest ; and all I have to regret 
is its briefness. Oh, that visit ! how we did enjoy it ! 
Your home continually rises in imagination before me. 
Again I am with you, in your beautiful garden, in the 
woods, by the lake ; again I see your dear little girls 
frolicking with their pet lamb, and long to be a child 
myself and join the sport. Kiss those darlings for me, 
and do not let them forget their Auntie Bacon. 

" How did the children like the ' Bible Stories ? ' and 
how did you enjoy ' Wide, AYide World ? ' I would 
thank yon, ere I forget it, for your letter describing 
your visit to Albany. It was full of interest to me, and 
I was delighted that you went. 

" We wanted you with us, week before last, at Port- 
land, whither we went to the meeting of the American 
Board. It was a feast indeed. You will of course read 
the report in the papers, and I will not enlarge npon it. 
The returned missionaries held an interesting meeting 
with the children one morning. One of the largest 
churches was full to overflowing. It was good to be 
there, althongh I was suffering from bruises received 
from a fall the day before we left home. You remember 
the situation of our attic stairs. I was coming down, 
and, it being rather dark, thought I was npon the last 
stair when I was on the second. So I stepped off, and 
fell, striking my head just over my right eye, and com- 
ino^ down with great force npon my stomacli and ribs. 
I cannot describe to you the dreadful jar which it gave 


to my whole system. As tlie Hibernian said, ' I iJiought 
I was lulled,^ but soon rose, made tbe proper appliances, 
and the next day, though feeling very lame, went to the 
meeting. I had a wonderful preservation of life and 
limb, for which I hope I am truly thankful. I still feel 
the effects of my fall, and fear I shall for some time. 

*' How is dear Sophia D ? I sent her a few lines 

after our return, reminding her of her promise to visit 
us, and requesting her husband to inform us at what 
depot we should meet them and when. But having seen 
and heard nothing from them, I conclude they have not 
visited the seaboard. It would have given us great 
pleasure to see and entertain them. Do remember us 
to that dear family most affectionately, and ask them 
if they received our letter. 

" The great jubilee" is over. We trust it may be pro- 
ductive of good and inspire the people on both sides the 
border with a more fraternal feeling. We hoped to see 
your dear father among the visitors, knowing his deep 
interest in such works of practical utility. I did not 
attend the celebration myself, having no desire to be in 
such a crowd, and thinking it better for my health to 
remain in my peaceful home. You no doubt read the 
proceedings in the papers, and know as well as I could 
tell you how fine the weather was, how splendid the 
parade, how interesting the speeches, &c., &c. 

" Husband and Anna join me in kind remembrances 

to you all. A fnlly intended writing to Sophia ere 

this, but has been prevented hitherto. Tell dear S 

* The celebration of the completion of the Grand Junction Rail- 
way, connectmg Canada with Boston and New York. 


we remember all lier kindness, and hope sometime to liave 
an opportunity to return it. I could but lainjh to liear 
you projecting anotlier visit from us next summer. Xo, 
dear, it is your turn now, and we shall hope to see you. 
Adieu for the present. 

** Your affectionate, 

''L. B. Bacox.'^ 

Mrs. Bacon's interest in the new enterprise under- 
taken by a colony from the church to which she had 
for many years belonged, did not abate. Yet she loved 
both the branches of this fair and goodly tree ; and al- 
though her more direct efforts were given to the in- 
crease and enlargement of that one with which herself 
and husband were now identified, still she never forgot 
to pray for and rejoice in the prosperity of the others. 
The sisters in Christ who were accustomed to unite with 
her in their weekly circle of prayer, will not soon forget 
the frequency and fervor of her petitions for '' the sister 
church." Especially did she plead " that God would 
send them a pastor — a man after his own heart, to go 
in and out before them, and break unto them the bread 
of life.'' 

This prayer was (as wo trust) graciously answered ; 
and Mrs. B. rejoiced in the event with hearty sincerity. 
The two churches were now called the "Broadway," 
and " Chestnut street," after the streets in which they 
were respectively located. The new building was in 
Chestnut street ; and the expense incurred in its erection 
was so great, that the ladies connected with the enter- 
prise resolved to furnish it from the avails of their own 
industry. Accordingly a social levee was held, at which 


various articles wliicli tlie ladies had prepared, and many 
otliers wliicli had been generously bestowed upon them, 
were exhibited and sold. This explanation is given 
that the allusions to these facts in some of the letters 
which follow, may be better understood. 

To Mrs. T 

''December 31, 1851. 

'' True, indeed, my dear — our letters are few and far 
between. But we have such constant intercourse with 

and thus hear from each other so often, that it 

seems almost like living together. Still I should love 
to write oftener, if time and strength would allow me ; 
but I cannot write without hurting my side, and there- 
fore am apt to omit it unless I have something special 
to communicate. 

" You complain of a monotonous life ; but did not 
you ask for rest 9 God has granted your request, but 
he has done it in his way, not ^ours. Oh, how 
many times has God answered my prayers and given 
me that which I asked. But he has always done it in 
his o^vn way, and often in a totally different method 
from what I expected. I often quote to myself those 
expressive stanzas of John Newton's. 

" ' I asked the Lord that I might grow 
In faith and love and e^ery grace; 
Might more of his salvation know, 
And seek more earnestly his face. 
'Twas he who taught me thus to pray, 
And he, I trust, has answered prayer : 
But it has been in such a ivay 
As almost drove me to desj)air.' 


" The loss of the babe was, I know, a great disap- 
pointment ; but think of it with other loved ones as 
basking in the sunshine of a Saviour's love where there 
is no sin. Oh, that sinless world! To be without sin 
for a single moment would be hliss ; but to be forever 
free from it, unspeakable blessedness! 

" I wdsh I had thought to ask you to make something* 
for our sale : I am sure you would have been interested. 
I do not very much approve of fairs for religious pur- 
poses. But ours was not one of the common kind: 
every objectionable feature, (as far as we could control 
circumstances) was carefully excluded. ' Grab boxes/ 
* lotteries,' &c., which are among the usual excrescences 
of these occasions, were omitted ; and propriety and 
decorum marked all the proceedings. The whole affair 
was * got up ' in about six weeks. We have three ves- 
tries under our church. The largest, which wall seat 
five hundred, was arranged with taste and beautifully 
decorated with evergreens. In this the sale was held ; 
the tables, ten in number, which were well filled with 
useful and fancy articles, were upon the sides of the 
room. This left ample space for visitors ; and although 
there w^as a large number, there was no jam. One of 
the smaller vestries received the hats, cloaks, &c., while 
in the other tea was served three times ; only as many 
being admitted at once, as could be comfortably waited 
upon. They entered by one door and retired by another, 
so that there was no confusion. We have realized 
already exclusive of all expenses ^775 dollars, and shall 
reach ^800 or more. Besides this eff*ort, we are mak- 
ing the covers to our pew cushions, thus saving much 
expense to the society. '••' '•' ^^ * 



With the compliments of the season, I send you and 

a little present, the work of my own hands. 

" Yours truly, 

"L. B.Bacon." 

To Mrs. E. C. B. 

^^ January \st^ 1852. 

" Many, very many happy returns of this season to 
my dear E., to her hushand, and her darling girls. I 
should have answered your letter sooner, but wished 
•when I did write, to he able to tell you something about 
our new church. But first I must refer to the contents 
of your last, and tell you how delighted I was with 
your description of that wedding. How beautiful must 
have been that garden with the arbor lighted within 
and so elegantly adorned ; and heaven's splendid lamp 
illuminating the whole with a brilliancy which no arti- 
ficial light could equal. I cannot tell you how much I 
think of you all at Geneva and at Sackett's. Since 
my visit there, my heart has been clinging to old friends 
with fresh tenacity. The fountains of memory were 
stirred afresh ; and by-gone scenes have risen up before 
me with a vividness at once real and startlino^. Hus- 
band enjoys the remembrance of our visit as much as I 
do ; it forms the subject of much sweet mutual converse. 
How kind in our heavenly Father to permit us so 
great a happiness. I am glad that your mother went 
with the bridal pair upon their journey. I think her 
return must have been a little sad when she came to 
realize that all her daughters have now left the beauti- 
ful home of their childhood. 

" Our new church is a beautiful structure. Only the 


outside of the edifice and the vestries are finished. 
There are three of these. The largest which will seat 
five hundred is desio-ned for our conference mectincrs. 
At present we use it for public worship on the Sabbath, 
and shall, I suppose, until the church is finished. There 
are two smaller vestries opening into the large one by 
folding doors, and communicating also with an entry 
which is accessible to each room independent of the 
others. One of these smaller vestries is for our sewing 
circle meetings and the other for our tea room at our 
monthly and annual social gatherings. Opening from 
the tea room is a large pantry with a boiler set, a 
pump, and sink. This not only affords us conveniences 
for tea at our benevolent and social meetings, but also 
for cleaning the church and vestries without troubling 
our neighbors for hot or cold water. In addition to 
these, we have three closets which are to hold our dishes, 
our sewing, and our refreshments. The latter are fur- 
nished by the members and are necessary because we 
come to our sewing circle early in the afternoon and 
stay until nine in the evening. We hope thus to accom- 
plish much, and to make our gatherings something 
more than a ceremony. We assist in supporting a 
pious young man in college who is preparing for the 
ministry ; we clothe destitute children for the Sabbath 
school; we send an occasional box of clothing to a home 
or foreign missionary ; and the rest of our earnings we 
appropriate towards defraying the expenses of our relig- 
ious enterprise. Our house when completed will cost 
(including the organ) about g22,000. The ladies of the 
church and society have held a sale and social levee to 
assist in furnishing the edifice. They have raised over 


jS!800. The sale was held during three afternoons and 
evenings. On the last afternoon, the children were 
admitted, and had a fine time you may be sure. Each 
child spent their pocket money according to their fancy ; 
and as there were plenty of toys for sale, fifes, drums 
and whistles all sent forth their choicest sounds. I 
went in on purpose to see the children's happy faces and 
watch their glee and enjoyment. When they had 
amused themselves as long as was judged best, we gave 
them their supper and dismissed them, delighted with 
their entertainment. 

" Do you remember little Catharine who died such a 

happy death at her uncle Y 's in Madison bai racks ? 

I wrote a short account of it some years ago for the 
* Sabbath School Visitor. ^ While thinking what J could 
do personally to furnish articles for our tables at the 
sale, it occurred to me that I mio^ht revise that little 
story and have it printed and sold. A good brother in 
the church, learning my purpose, offered to print it gra- 
tuitously. This was done and nearly two hundred of 
the little books were sold at the tables. I send you a 
copy for the children, whirh they will read with interest 
because you can assure them of its truth. Dear Kate ! 
I trust the perusal of her short experience may be 
blessed to many. 

" Husband is in better health than when we saw you, 
and joins me in love to yourself, Mr. B., and the chil- 
dren. Tell the latter that Uncle Bacon wishes to know 
if their lamb has lived through this cold winter. Write 
soon, dearest, and tell us of your welfare. 
" Your ever affectionate, 

" L. B. Bacon." 


To Mrs. S 

''February IG, 1852. 

" I acknowledge, my dear that I am a misera- 
ble correspondent both as to the matter and frequency 
of my epistles. For this there are several reasons. One 
is that A writes you often and keeps you well in- 
formed of all the news in our family and place. Then 
we have such frequent communications through our 
mutual friends that it leaves me little worth commit- 
ting to paper; and lastly, it tires me to w^rite much, and 
I do not like to do it often. I hope this will find you 
well, as I hear you have been favored in this respict 
since your return. How delightful it must have been 
to you, after your journeyings, to be seated once more in 
your own snug domicil wi:h all your wants supplied, 
and your good children and friends evincing their 
pleasure at vour return by numberless acts of kindness. 
How sweet, how refreshing to our spirits are such man- 
ifestations, especially when we can receive th^m (as I 
know you do,) as coming from the hand of our heavenly 
Father. Yes, you and I can both speak of and praise 
the goodness of God through our long and changeful 
lives. Even our crosses — and I don't compare mine 
with yours, though I have had those that tried both 
faith and patience — even these have been blessings in In that blessed land whither we hoi)e to go, 
we shall know the reasons for each afflictive dispensa- 
tion ; and shall bless our covenant-keeping God lor all 
the trials we have experienced lure. Let usj then exer- 
cise a living faith in him ; appiopiiating the righteous- 
ness of Christ as our only jusiitication, and receiving 
pardon and salvation through his atoning blood. AVe 


cannot fathom either his wisdom or his love ; hntwe can 
trust him, and this is required at our hands. 

" 1 have been very sick lately, more so than since I 
have lived in Chelsea ; but am now slowly mending. It 
is five weeks since I have been out ; and during all this 
time I have not been able to see my poor sailors, though 
I know all about them. I do love to go in and visit 
them and try to do them good. Two missionaries visit 
them evi'ry week, and converse, pray, and distribute 
tracts among them. Thus their souls and bodies are 
still cared for. * * ^^ ^ ^ * 

"Is it not cheering after so long a withholding of 
the blessed Spirit, to read in almost every paper that it 
is being poured out in copious effusions in various pla- 
ces? The great cities are not passed by. The Bap- 
tists in Boston and here also arc sharing largely in this 
blessing. We have had a mercy drop or two, which I 
hope may be the precursor of a plentiful shower of di- 
vine grace. Our sister church at Broadway has settled 
a pastor. He appears to be a godly, devoted man, and 
we hope his labors may be blessed. We need the Spirit 
of Gud to be poured out upon these churches, that both 
our houses may be filled with devout worshipers. Our 
new church will be finished the last of March. We find 
we were not too hasty (as some feared) in dividing and 
erecting another church edifice; for one would not hold 
both our congregations even now; and several are wait- 
ing for the new church to be finished to locate with us. 
Pray for us — and remember us afR-ctionately to all 
friends. Yours in love, 

«*Lydia B. Bacon." 


To Mrs. B. 

'' Marcli, 1852. 

" I cannot express to you, my beloved E , what a 

comfort your letters arc to me. It fills my heart witli 
gratitude to our heavenly Father, that though he has 
seen fit to withhold the blessing of children from us, 
yet we have those who love us like children, and to 
whom we feel an affection almost parental. 

" I do rejoice that your dear mother has so much 
satisfaction in her girls. I say girls, particularly ; 
because however loving, obedient and moral her sons 
may be, yet the thought that none of them are the fol- 
lowers of Christ must cause her many a sad and anx- 
ious hour. I sincerely sympathize with you, my 
precious child, in the removal of that loved grand- 
mother ; and also in your disappointment at not behold- 
ing her face, though shrouded in death. It was hard 
to bear, but it was right: God afflicts us only for our 
good. Has not this been our experience in past trials? 
From your youth, God has been your refuge, and he 
will never forsake those who rely upon him. Oh, how 
full the Book of books is of promises to those who 
trust And are not these promises all yea and ameu in 
Christ Jesus ? 

" I feel PTateful that I had the satisfaction of see- 
ing my dear old friend once more before her exit. 

Dear E , I don't bidieve you know hotv much reason 

I have to love your grandmother. I cannot think of 
the past without a burst of emotion: 'memory swells 
with many a proof of recollected love.' Your mother 
must feel her loss most sensibly : what a parent she has 
been to her. Although she cau, and will accj[uiesce in 


the dealings of her heavenly Father * who doeth all 
things well,' yet the vacancy can never be filled. I 
say this from experience. I think your dear mother 
will have to vieit her daughters often, now that the tie 
which so long kept her at home is removed, and she has 
no young children to claim her attention. Your meet- 
ing, as a family after this bereavement must have been 
sadly sweet. I remember after we laid my dear mother 
in her last resting-place, how precious it was to talk 
together of her virtues and worth — how soothing to 
speak of her love to the Saviour, and her trust in 
him. How the sting of such a loss is extracted by the 
assurance that all is well with the departed. Three of 
our dear old friends from Sackett's have left us since 
the commencement of the year, your grandmother, 
Mrs. Buchanan, and Mr. T. Osgood. The latter was a 
blessed man. Like his divine Master, he went about 
doing good ; many of my most delightful associations 
are connected with his memory. You recollect, no 
doubt, his vi^it to Sackett's and his interest in the Sab- 
bath School. Our first books for that school wire pro- 
cured by him. Sister Buchanan, too, was a most 
interesting woman. Thus they drop from our side, one 
by one ; may we be as well prepared when our summons 
shall come. 

" I have been quite sick (since 1 wrote you last) with 
the prevailing influenza, attended with a violent cough, 
which prostrated me exceedingly. I am now slowly 
recoverino' and able to 2:0 out when the weather is 
pleasant. I have not been to meeting but once bince 
the tenth of January. Such a cuniinement from the 
house of God, has not happened to me le.ore in fifteen 


years. Yet I must say that tliis time of retirement has 
been sweet to me. I have been (since the first three 
weeks of my illness) able to read, write, and sew some ; 
and have enjoyed such a season of quiet meditation as 
I never had before. My mind has dwelt much upon 
the past — the Lord's dealings with me, the friends that 
he has blessed me with, their continued kindness, and 
unchanging regard to one so unworthy. But most 
have I thought upon God's great mercy in leading me 
to trust in the precious Saviour ; though I do not forget 
his kindness in providing for so long a time such a com- 
fortable home for my advancing age. Oh, his goodness 
is unspeakable ! Your letter, dear E , was charm- 
ing. I was glad to find that your opinion of ' Wide, 
-wide world,' coincided so exactly with mine. It is said 
there is to be a sequel — I hope it may be equally good. 
One of the most exciting scenes, I think, was Ellen's 
encounter w^ith that wicked man, when she was on 
horseback. That was so horridly teasing: but the 
mean fellow must have looked well lying in the mud. 
"Well — it is hard to keep the rush light burning ; do not 
we, though children of a larger growth, find it so? 
The divine injunction 'watch,' seems constantly sound- 
ing in my ears — Oh, may I heed it, and * watch unto 

*' Uncle Bacon sends love and kisses to the dear 
children ; and is very glad to hear their lamb, [it must 
be a sheep now] is well and continues to bo a comfort 
to them. They must have had a nice time coasting as 
we call it here. There has been a sufficiency of ice 
and snow this winter, and the boys and girls have 
enjoyed it well. I am glad you approve of this kind of 


exercise even for ^irls : it is healthy and invigorating. 
If well clad, children need not fear the cold. It was 
one of my favorite amusements when a child to play in 
the snow. 

*' Many thanks for your pressing invitation, and that 
of your little ones, to visit you and them the coming 
summer. Nothing could give us more pleasure : but, 
we cannot indulge so soon again in such a luxury. 
Cannot you come to us and bring the dear children ? 
They would return to tlieir beautiful retreat with 
renewed pleasure. We feel very sorry to hear your 
sister S , is so feeble. She is being tried and puri- 
fied for that better world, wdiose inhabitants never say 
' I am sick.' Eemember me to her, and to all your 
sisters when you write. 

" I have been reading a little book called ' Sunny 
Side.' It is a small volume ; but I send you a copy, of 
which I beg your acceptance, and hope you will enjoy it 
as w^ell as I have. 

'' D.av E , I have written a long letter, but it 

has been wdth some tribulation, as it hurts me not a 
little to write. Adieu, my beloved. 

" From your affectionate, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

To Mrs. H. B. 

'' April bth, 1852. 
" My very dear sister: — Your letters are a precious 
solace to me. The last one found me just recovering 
from the influenza, a severe attack of wdiich has con- 
fined me to the house most of the time since January. 
It was accompanied by a violent cough which caused 


great wealviiess, and the weather has been unusually 
cold and stormy, especially upon the Sahbath, so that it 
was not thought prudent for mc to venture out. Our 
new ehureli is finished, and the dedication took place 
last Wednesday evening. I felt as if I must go : so we 
sent for a close carriage, and I have felt no inconveni- 
ence from the exposure. The services were very appro- 
priate and impressive. Our good pastor preached a 
most excellent sermon from these words in Isaiah GOth, 
7th : ' I will glorify the house of my glory.' The 
good minister from our sister church was present, and 
took part in the exercises. 

" The music was performed by our own choir, and 
was very satisfactory to the audience. Our house is 
neat and symmetrical, and will seat one thousand per- 
sons. We have a very fine organ and select choir, with 
one of the best choristers in the world. The church is 
carpeted and cushioned, mostly by the efforts of the 
ladies. It is to be lighted with gas ; and warmed by 
furnaces of course. We find our three vestries very 
convenient. I believe I gave you an account of the 
manner in which they were connected by folding doors. 
But I did not tell you as I should have done, that they 
are all thrown open for the Sabbath school exercises 
every Sabbath, one of them being specially devoted to 
the infant department. We have had a few hopeful 
conversions, and a very few are inquiring the way to 
Zion. Oh, how much we need an abundant shower 
of divine grace. Do unite with me, dear sister, in 
prayivg for such a blessing : zve hioiv hy happy experi- 
ence that our God hears and aimvtrs prayer. Though 
the blessing tarry, yet it will assuredly come. 


" I have mucli to be thankful for, in being once more 
able to resume my customary duties. For many weeks, 
I was unable to visit my poor sailors, the state of my 
lungs forbidding me to talk much. This and my ina- 
bility to attend church were great deprivations. But 
my sickness was after all a pleasant one, and I was sur- 
rounded with mercies innumerable. Among them were 
a kind husband and niece to anticipate my wants, the 
sympathy of my Christian friends, and a resigned 
spirit to my heavenly Father's will — all the gift of 
him in whom I live, and move, and have my being. 
What could I ask more ? Now in pleasant weather, I 
am able to walk out on God's footstool to breathe his 
air, and go to his house with those who love to keep 
holy day. ' Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is 
within me bless his holy name.' 

" You speak, dear H , of our long tried friend- 
ship. Very sweet indeed has it been to me : and I 
count my intercourse with your dear family, one of the 
greatest blessings of my life. Your dear Harriet too, 
and her little one and her good husband, we feel a 
lively interest in. We hope to hear that a more conge- 
nial clime has restored the health of the latter, that 
your dear family circle may not be broken at present. 
Do remember us most affectionately to the doctor, and 
assure him of our sympathy in his long continued 
illness. We think and speak of you all more than ever 
since we were with you : that delightful visit revived so 
many tender recollections. What a life ours has been : 
it seems as if we had more cause for gratitude to God, 
and to our friends, than any one ever had. Oh, for a 


heart to love and serve tliat Llesscd Being', wlio lias so 
cared for sucli unwortliy creatures. 

" Dear E. B. informed us of her grandinother'3 
death, and also that you did not allow a stranger*s 
hand to perform the last sad offices for that blessed 
woman. How lonely that house must seem without 
one whose life was so blended with every scene of joj 
or sorrow witnessed there. Her death is the third 
among those dear old valued frienJs since this year 
began. With those thiee are associated some of the 
happiest moments of my pilgrimage : how sweet is 
their memory still. 

*' Do not fail to write soon and tell us about the doc- 
tor. We are grieved at his protracted illness : but glad 
that he is so resigned to his heavenly Father's will, 
and can cheerfully await the issue, whether it be life, 
or death. Our kindest thoughts and prayers attend 
you all. With love^ to yourself and dear ones. 
" I remain as ever, Yours truly, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

To Mrs. B . 

''June2dtJi, 1852. 

" You can never know, my loved Elizabeth, what a 
treasure your letters are to me. Indeed, I should have 
said to us, for husband and Anna enjoy them very much. 
Still, they cannot feel as I do towards you who have 
been the child of my afPoctions from your earliest youth. 
I had become quite anxious at vour delay in writing, 
and was daily looking and hoping for a letter, when A. 
came to my room, with a beaming face, and handed me 
your welcome epistle. From your long silence, I had 


feared that you were in trouble, and so it proved. Your 
heavenly Father has again tried you in the furnace of 
affliction. But blessed be his name that he has gra- 
ciously delivered you, giving back that precious life, so 
important to the earthly comfort of yourself and chil- 
dren and friends. I feel that this new instance of God's 
goodness to you in sparing your beloved, will renew your 
gratitude and devotion to your Divine Benefactor. May 
it lead you to a closer walk with Him and more entire 
reliance on that Almighty arm which is promised to 
deliver all who put their trust in Him. 

'' This season of the year brings with increased fresh- 
ness the memory of our very pleasant journey and visit 
to yourself and other friends. Our recollections of it 
are delightful — all your kindness and attention, the 
sweet seasons by the beautiful lake with those darling 
children — all rest upon my mind as if it were but yes- 
terday. A year has fled most rapidly since then. How 
many have passed to the spirit-land while we are 
spared ! 

As I sit in my pleasant room, the prospect never 
seemed more charming than at present. The flowers 
are in full bloom, and the vegetable and fruit gardens 
are yielding and promising most abundantly. But as I 
gaze beyond them, mementos of death greet my eye — 
the colors at half mast on the steamboats, the shipping 
at anchor, and the State House all proclaim that a great 
and honorable one has fallen. Henry Clay Avas one of 
the Union's most cherished sons. His mind was clear 
and vigorous to the last ; and he was a firm believer in 
that blessed Being who gave him such a giant intellect 
to use for his country's good. He fell asleep with a 


sweet, confiding trust in liis Eedcemer, and, we will 
hope, is now among tlic happy throng who, with deep 
hamilit}^ cast their crowns at a Saviour's feet. 

" My dear Josiah has been for some time past very 
unwell with dyspepsia. It has troubled him somewhat 
ever since we returned from our visit to New York 
State ; but he is now rather better, and I hope may 
recover fully, and enjoy his usual health. My own is 
much better than when I wrote you last. I trust I am 
thankful for this, as it needs vigor of body and mind 
to fill our present sphere of action usefully. We do not 
feel hardly able to lay by the oar yet; but all tliis we 
leave witli Him who has sustained us in our youth and 
will not forsake us in our old age. 

" Husband is very much interested at present in a 
new institution for sailors which is just being estab- 
lished. It is to be called the Snug Harbor, and is 
desio-ned for those seamen who are worn out with toilino: 
fur others' luxuries, and have no money, and no home 
where they may rest their weary heads. Here they are to 
have their souls as well as bodies cared for and minis- 
tered unto. We think this subject ought to make a 
strong appeal to all, but especially to those who have 
2:rown rich throuo-h the hard toil of the sons of the 
ocean. This society has been incorporated, and its 
officers are now taking preliminary steps for the collec- 
tion of funds and the purchase of a location. The 
location which they have in view is very delightful, being 
about eleven miles fn.m Boston, and easily accessible 
both by huul and water. They wish Mr. Bacon to take 
the superintendence ; but we are too old to take the 
laboring oar in such an establishment; then we are as 


useful here as -^^e could be any where ; and when we leave 
this situation it must be for one of retirement. AVere 
we thirty years younger, nothing would delight us more. 
But, although we do not desire to rust out, yet we do 
not feel so well able to labor as we once did. We have 
almost attained the age allotted to man, yet we are 
thankful that we are still able to do something. ' Surely 
goodness and mercy have followed us all our days.' 

" You, as a family, are highly favored in being per- 
mitted to meet once more, and have the last fledged 

one return to you in safety. How does H like 

her new abode? No doubt it is a pleasant one; but 
methinks I hear her say, ' Sackett's, "With all thy faults, 
I love tbee still/' ' 

" We are sorry to hear so sad an account of the health 

of our dear friend. Dr. H , though we feared it 

would be so. When a person is so low with consumption 
that his medical advisers recommend another clime, I 
never expect any permanent improvement. I am daily 
expecting to hear from him through my beloved Mrs. 
B. We do sympathize with them. He has so much 
to render life desirable, and his great usefulness at 
Sackett's, together with their need of him there, would 
seem to make his removal a mysterious providence, hard 
to be understood. Yet, even with so much to keep us 
here, how much more desirable is heaven. Oh, dear 
E., do you not sometimes get a glimpse of that glorious 

' Whose precincts sin and sorrow ne'er invade ' ? 

"T am glad you were pleased with < Sunny Side.' I 
have just read ' Queechy.' It is an interesting work, 


but more of a novel than I supposed. It is not so docid- 
edlj religious as 'AVide, Wide World,' but may please 
the multitude more. I do not think 'Fleda' quite so 
natural a character as * KUen Montgomery.' She is a 
little too perfect. It cost ' Ellen ' something to keep 
her * rush-lio-ht ' burnino;. I think the authoress a fine 
writer, and her style at once chaste and refined. 

"We have had some religious interest in both our 
churches, but no special revival. The Broadway church 
has been fitted up very neatly, and enclosed with an iron 
fence. They have a most excellent minister whom they 
love very much. ^ ^'^ ^ * "' "' 

"Do, dear E., write soon to your attached friend, 

" L. B. Bacon.'' 

To Mrs. B r. 

'' S^pt 10, 1852. 
" Tily dear sister H. : — It is an unspeakable comfort 
to have such a friend as you have ever been to me. 
You have responded with ready sympathy to all the 
varied phases of my life, both in joy and sorrow. Need 
I assure you that your kind feelings are fully recipro- 
cated ? We think much of you all. and especially of 
your dear invalid (Dr. H.), in his debility and suffering. 
We do pray that you may all be supported under this 
heavy trial and impending blow with that Almighty 
grace which alone can bo suflncient for a time like this. 
We know the aged must die ; but when death sets his 
mark on those in the prime of life, with every requisite 
for usefulness, we are very apt to ask, Why is it? The 
Christian has this consolation (and it is his alone), 
God is his father and friend, and will afflict him only 


for his gcocl. 'Whose God is like unto our God?' 
Blessed thought. 

**I should have written you sooner, dear H., but 
I too have been called to wait upon a sick husband. 
Hoping that I should be able to say he had entirely 
recovered, and having much to do in addition to my 
usual duties, I have deferred answering your affection- 
ate and interesting epistle until I can no longer suffer 
you to think me so indifferent to your welfare. I want 
very much to hear from the Dr., and so concluded to 
write, although I cannot tell you as I hoped that my 
dear Josiah is restored to health. He is better, however, 
though still extremely feeble. He has not been well 
since our return from your house last summer. He was 
troubled some with dyspepsia, and became very sensitive 
to cold, and at length had somethino; of a cou^h. All 
this has gradually undermined his strength and dimin- 
ished his fli'sh, until now he is only the shadow of his 
former self. In July we went to Centre Harbor solely 
on his account, hoping a change of air might be a ben- 
efit, as the Dr. said his lungs were not materially 
affected. But he returned more feeble than he went. 
All this time he was trying to do all his business as ever, 
without calling a physician. At length he was obliged 
to consult one, who found him with rapid pulse and hot 
skin, and symptoms of inflammation on the liver. The 
medicines administered acted promptly on the system, 
and produced so salutary an effect that we hoped his 
recovery would be speedy and sure. But, contrary to 
our expectations, he still continues very weak, and his 
appetit- does not rally at all. The hot weather is very 
trying to him. When he was in health it troubled him 


exccodinglj, and mucli more now lie is so feeble. He 
feels so much better in a cool day that we are encouraged 
to hope the advancing cool weather may be favorable to 
him. But he has lost thirty pounds of flesh in a few 
weeks ! Oh, I cannot describe my feelings when I look 
at the luisband of my youth, and see him so altered. 
That strong arm on which I used to lean with so much 
confidence, is now so lueak that it makes my heart ache. 
You know, dear sister, that few men have been blessed 
with such uniform health through a long life as lie has, 
and this makes the contrast with his present debility 
more apparent. It should make us more reconciled to 
this sickness when we consider how many years we have 
both been favored beyond others. Oh, how blest have 
we been in being able to wait upon God so long in his 
house. Thirty years we have been communicants, and, 
if my memory serves me rightly, husband has never 
been absent from the table of our Lord but twice. 
Twelve years we have sojourned in this place, and last 
Sabbath was the first communion season that he was 
absent from his post. I, too, have been absent at such 
a time but twice or thrice, and in this place never. 
Surely tliis is evidence of the loving kindness of our 
God toward us: it is on this account solely that I men- 
tion it. Thus have we b^en favored above many who 
were much more deserving- ; and shall we not then be sub- 
missive under our present aftliction, and bless the Hand 
that smites so gently ? We have neared the time allot- 
ted to man in iliis world. Having a humbh' hope that 
we are accepted in the Beloved, and our sins washed 
away in his precious blood, should we not be ready to 
depart ? True, we are surrounded with blessings and 


privileges ; yet how much botter is heaven than earth. 
There we shall feel no weariness in serving our Saviour ; 
and, what is more precious to me, there we shall serve 
him without sin. 

We are rejoiced to know that our dear 11 and 

her husband are so well sustained under their great 
affliction. The promises of God are yea and amen to 
those who trust him. We are glad to learn that Mrs. 

is better, and that Mr. 's preaching is so 

acceptable. You say ' no fruits appear as yet/ I -would 
ask, have Christians prayed in faith for such a blessing? 
Unless they do, they must not expect it. We have 
additions every communion season to our number, mostly 
from amono; the youno\ We should no doubt have 
more, were we as a church more prayerful and less worldly- 
minded. We, too, need the s})irit in our midst, without 
which Paul may plant and A polios water in vain. Do 
remember us at a throne of grace. 

'' ]\Irs. B d gave me an account of her husband^s 

sickness : it must have been distressing indeed. We 
are thankful that his valuable life has been spared. 
May he be long continued a blessing to all with whom 
he is connected. 

" And now, dear sister, pray for us (as we do for you), 
that we may be prepared for all that awaits us, and 
may, witli sweet submission and holy patience, abide 
God's will. With fervent prayer that you and we may 
be divinely directed and su[)por:ed, I remain as ever 
" Your affectionate and sympathizing 

"L. B. Bacon.'' 


The Lope of her liiisl^ancVs recovery, -wlncli ]\lrs. Ba- 
con expressed to her friend in the letter just given, was 
not to be realized. Disease had taken firm hold, and 
neither the fondest love, the most nntiring care, or the 
best medical skill could arrest its progress. For two or 
three weeks after the preceding letter was written, hopes 
and fears alternately predominated as to the issue of his 
sickness. His loving companion, whose sanguine tem- 
perament always led her to look upon the bright side, 
maintained a cheerful courage, and was hopeful of his 
recovery almost to the last. Indeed, he was not confined 
to his bed more than a week, and less than a month had 
elapsed from the date of Mrs. B's last communication 
ere she was tasting the bitterness of a great bereave- 
ment. Her husband died on the first Sabbath in Octo- 
ber, aged sixty-seven years and nine months. On 
AVednesday, Oct. 6th, his funeral was attended in the 
Chestnut st. church, where a solemn and impressive 
discourse was delivered by his pastor, from these words, 
" Even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring 
with him." 

A few passages from this discourse briefly describing 
the closing scene will here be given. " He received the 
announcement that he must die without a change of ex- 
pression or a word of regret." " The first time I saw 
him after he had taken his bed and all hope of his 
recovery was past, he took my hand and with an 
expressive tear trickling down his cheek said, ' the will 
of the Lord be done.' My judgment responded ' so let 
it be,' but my heart cried out, ' if it be possible, let this 
cup pass.' Eaised in his bed by strong men, he made 
his last mark upon his quarterly returns forty- 

322 BioaPvAPUT OF mrs. lydia b. baco:n'. 

eight hours before his death. When told bj his brother 
that all was right with respect to his accounts, like a 
weary soldier when the battle was fought and the 
victory won, he laid himself down to sleep. Not 
another word about business escaped his lips. All was 
just right ; not a pain too much ; death had not come 
too soon ; his work was done ; all was peace. Christ 
was near and precious, and heaven open before him. 
We claim not for our friend an exemption the 
frailties whicli belong to our race. He saw much in his 
past life to regret ; but all was well, because an 
Almighty Saviour, in whom he trusted, had undertaken 
on his behalf. So at half-past twelve on Sabbath noon, he 
entered into his rest without a straggle. He had lived the 
Christian life, and his death was that of the Christian." 

The foUowino; are amono; the words of comfort 
addressed to Mrs. Bacon by her sympathizing pastor •. 

" The bereaved widow will find consolatiou both in 
his life and in his death. She was his playmate in 
childhood, his firm friend in riper years, his companion 
in the camp and on the tented field. Nor was she less 
his companion in his struggles against reigning sin, and 
his conquests through heavenly grace ; in his church 
relations at Sackett's Harbor and at Sandwich ; and in 
the great and good work which he has accomplished 
here, both for seamen and f.r this church and communi- 
ty. And now she may be cheered vfith the hope that 
this separation will be only for a season. This passed, 
she shall join her beloved in a companionship which 
nothing shall mar or interrupt. Christ is her surety, 
God is her husband, and the bright bow of promise 
spans the grave where this precious dust shall lie 


' Even so tlicm also wliicli sleep in Jesus will God Lring 
with him.' Let her then in this sad hour say to her 
troubled bosom, ' peace, be stilL' ' I was dumb ; I 
opened not my moutli, because thou didst it.' " 

Meekly did our afflicted friend bow her head under 
this bereaving stroke. Though sorely chastened she 
was not overwhelmed, and instead of gloomily poring 
over this heavy trial she seemed to be gratefully re- 
viewing the mercies of the past. The language both 
of her heart and lips was, " Truly, goodness ar.d mercy 
have followed me all my days." " Shall I receive good 
at the hand of the Lord, and shall I not receive evil 
also ?" So when the '' precious dust " of her beloved 
w^as laid in the beautiful cemetery at " Woodlawn," with 
touching resignation she said, " Farewell — I shall go to 
him, but he will not return to me." 

The aged step-mother of Mr. Bacon had survived 
him. From this dear kinswoman Mrs. Bacon now 
received a most touching letter of condolence, remarkable 
as the production of one who had lived beyond the 
allotted period of human life. Its perusal will show 
that she had not outlived her sympathies, or the useful 
exercise of her mental powers, though now at an ad- 
vanced age. It is dated 

''Portland, Oct 10, 1852. 
*' My very dear daughter Lydia : — Although deeply 
afflicted by this trying bereavement, I thought I would 
write you a few lines, hoping they will find you sup- 
ported under so severe a trial of your faith. AVe have 
all experienced a sad loss. My dear child, I can truly 


sympatliize with 3' ou ; ' lover and friend Las God taken 
from you/ But I trust he * has not taken his loving 
kindness from you, nor suffered his faithfulness to 
fail/ ' The foundation of God standeth sure, having 
this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his.' 

" The last time I saw the dear departed, he looked 
changed and sick, but oh ! to me so like his dear father, 
that my heart yearned towards him much. Still I 
hoped he would recruit a little, but was deceived in his 
case as in that of my son AVilliam. And here am I 
like the old stock of a tree : the useful branches are 
cut off, and I am still left standing. Oh, may I be pre- 
pared to meet the shaft of death as this dear departed 
one has done. We feel a sweet confidence that through 
the merits of a precious Saviour, he has entered upon 
'the full enjoyment of God to all eternity.' This is a 
consolation which no words can describe. 

" May you, my dear, be filled with the peaceable 
fruits of righteousness by the Lord's chastening hand. 
For God is able not only to uphold the soul, but also to 
enable it to rejoice in tribulation. Dear Lydia, it must 
be a very trying time with you at present. I hope 
your health will not suffer on account of the various 
duties you may have to perform ; and as you have so 
many good and kind friends to help take the burden of 
care from you, you may have more time to meditate on 
God's dealings with you. From place to place the Lord 
has been your guide, and I trust will be * until you 
change this mortal state for your eternal home.' 

" My dear daughter, may this poor epistle find you 
like Mary sitting at the feet of your Saviour, trusting 


in liis finislied rigliteoiisiicss and ransomed Ly liis 
precious blood. And may the blessing of your heaven- 
ly Father be with you. So prays 

*' Your affectionate motlier, 

" Agnes Bacon/' 

The death of her liusband, of course, deprived Mrs. 
Bacon of the home which for nearly twelve years she 
had enjoyed and beautified. Another Steward must 
take Mr. Bacon's place at the hospital, and his widow 
must leave the spacious and airy rooms, every one of 
which looked out upon a prospect extensive and beauti- 
ful. Over those ample windows the vines which she 
had cultured and trained, climbed in graceful luxuri- 
ance, around the door steps, and in the broad window- 
sills were clustered the choice plants which she had 
raised and tended like household pets. Across the 
graveled walk, lay her flower garden still smiling in 
the remains of its summer beauty. And before her 
danced the bright blue waves beyond whose glistening 
summits the spires of the city, the dome of the capitol, 
and Bunker Hill's gray shaft towered to the sky. 

All these she must leave to the care, the hand, the 
eye of a stranger. Painfully did her friends anticipate 
her sadness at such a parting. But they were mis- 
taken — " none of these things moved" her. A few 
natural tears she shed, indeed. But it was not the loss 
of these enjoyments that stirred her soul to its depths as 
she contemplated her removal. "I can leave all 
these," she said, " hut how can I glue iip my poor 
sailors ? '^ 

The little property which her husband had gathered 


from the savings of his salary, was hequeathed by him 
to the " Sailors' Snug Harbor," mentioned in these 
pages as about to be established in the neighborhood of 
Boston. For (in the words of his pastor at his fune- 
ral) we may say, " he loved the sailor. Long ago he 
adopted the sons of the ocean as his children. While 
he lived, he ceased not to labor and pray for their tem- 
poral and spiritual good. And nearly all of this 
world's goods, that he and his companion by economy 
and industry have gathered and saved, is bequeathed 
for their benefit when she shall have completed her 

The institution which Mr. Bacon thus contributed to 
endow is located at Quincy Point ; and the last ride 
which he planned, but which his rapidly failing strength 
obliged him to relinquish., was to that place. It was 
Mrs. Bacon's wish still to remain in Chelsea : and her 
principal care for herself was to secure a quiet home of 
easy access to the house of God, where she and her 
departed had worshiped. " I know not," said she to 
the writer, '' where to look for a boarding place ; but I 
mean not to be over anxious. I have committed the 
matter to my heavenly Father, and I feel that he will 
provide." The next time I saw Mrs. B. she exclaimed, 
with a smiling face, '' the Lord has taken care of me 
and has provided me with just such a location as I 
wished. Only think, it is in Chestnut street just oppo- 
site our church, and in a nice quiet family. Oh, my 
friend, it is good to trust in the Lord. He has never 
failed me ; never disappointed my confidence." 

The bereaving strokes of God's providence still con- 
tinued to afflict our friend and call forth her sorrows for 


herself and licr tendercst s3'mpat]iio,s for others. A 
beloved niece who was happily married, and had just 
gone (accompanied by her children and sister) to njoin 
her husband in South America, was speedily called to 
mourn that husband's sudden death. Mrs. Bacon 
learned the sad news while on a visit to the parents of 
her young relative ; and immediately addressed to her 
the following letter of condolence. 

'^ Brooldine, Feb. 14, 1852. 
" From the heading of this letter, my dear afflicted 
hiece will perceive that I am with her beloved parents 
in this hour of trial. I came to make them a little 
visit in their and my loneliness, but little did I antici- 
pate such a dreadful blow to our happiness. To my 
poor heart, it is like putting a fresh blister on one not 
healed. How short-sighted we are ! How often 
troubles come from a source where we least expected 
them. Within five short months, death's unerring 
shafts have laid each of our best earthly comforts low. 
Dear, precious Sarah ! What shall I say to you in this 
hour of your deep distress? I cannot, I would not bid 
you not to mourn. This you cannot refrain from; and 
I have too recently drank the bitter cup myself to be 
able to give such advice. Mourn, you may, sweet child, 
bereaved widow; but do it with resignation to your 
heavenly Father's will, who has assured us he does not 
willingly afflict, or grieve the children of men. We 
cannot fathom his mysterious providences now, but the 
time is coming when we shall know (what we are assured 
of now) that all his dealings are for our best good. 
May we take his precious promises, and with deep 


humility plead them at the foot of the cross, praying 
that these heart-rending trials may be sanctified to our 
soul's eternal ^Yelfare. The promises of God are yea 
and alien to those who believe. May the blessed Bible 
so full, so rich in them, be your comfort and support; 
and the result of tliis painful dispensation be righteous- 
ness and peace. Thus may you be enabled to say ' it 
is o:ood that I have been afflicted.' 

" I need not assure you how deeply we all sympathize 
with you : not only your own dear relatives, but your 
friends and acquaintance. Several have called already 
to express their heartfelt sympathy. The sad event 
was not known here till late on Saturday. i\fter church 
the next day, your pastor called ; and closed a short 
conversation by offering prayer, in which, (I trust) we 
all joined with chastened and believing hearts. Oh, 
how tenderly and fervently did he pray for the widowed 
young mother, the fatherless children, and the beloved 
sister in a strano^e land, where the church-o;oino; bell is 
not heard, or the Christian minister found to impart 
consolation in such a time of need. 

" Dear S., many prayers are offered on your behalf: 
may you feel their blessed effects in your own soul. 
May you be quickened and strengthened by the influ- 
ences of the Holy Spirit, and find that relief at a throne 
of grace which is the result of the prayer of faith. How 
delightful is the thought amid such paucity of spiritual 
good externally, that our covenant-keeping God is not 
cm fined to time or place. Whatever place we make our 
Bethel, he is there. I trust, dear one, that you will look 
at the blessings still left you, and though these will not 
fill the sad vacuum in your heart, yet they should alle- 


viate your sorrow, and I feci that tlioy will. Still the 
absence of the lover and friend of our youth can never 
he fully appreciated but by those who experience it. In 
this respect, I feel competent to judge. Oh, the desola- 
tion that comes over me at times, let me be where I 
will. It is not to be described and can only be felt. 
But I endeavor to look away from the tomb, and in 
view of the unbounded love of Christ, who is the ' resur- 
rection and the life,' say ' the will of the Lord be done.' 
Believe me your ever affectionate, widowed aunt, 

"L. B. Bacox." 

While these changes had passed over Mrs. Bacon, the 
friends whom she loved at Sackett's Harbor and with 
whom she maintained a most affectionate correspondence, 
had been likewise visited with a bereavins: stroke. Dr. 

H the son-in-law of the dear sister in Christ, Mrs. 

B had gone to an early grave. To his youthful 

widow who was the " little pet " of her earlier corres- 
pondence, she now addresses the following brief letter 
of condolence and sympathy. 

" Chelsea, December 24, 1852. 

*' My very dear H. : — Though our ages are so differ- 
ent, yet our sorrows are so similar that I feel drawn to 
you by a new and very tender tie. ^ '•- 

"As memory with a bound retraces past events, I 
find myself once more in that chamber where your 
precious one was laid when arrayed in the habiliments 
of the grave. There twenty-five years previous, you 
first saw the light. Little did I think when I then re-, 
ceived you to my arms and heart that we should bq 


drawn togellier by such a tie as this. When I left you 
a sprightly affectionate cbikl of four or five years in 
your happy home, often did my heart yearn after you ; 
hut never for a moment did I dream that our friendship 
■would be riveted by a mutual call for sympathy in sor- 
rows so identical. May nothing interrupt or mar this 
friendship, till in the spirit land we join our beloved 
companions (with whom on earth we took sweet counsel) 
and unite in their praises of redeeming love. I often 
think how much our glorified ones will then have to tell 
us of the wonders of bliss which await the ransomed. 
With you I can say tbat I wish my trial may teach me 
just the lesson which my heavenly Father sees me to 

"I tbank you for your very interesting letter, and the 
account of your beloved's last moments. Oh, how de- 
lightful to contemplate such an exit! Well may your 
young heart rejoice in the manifestation of such grace 
and meetness for heaven. From the first moment I 
saw your departed one, I loved him ; and as I became 
more acquainted with him I felt more and more con- 
firmed in my first impressions. In these feeliugs wy 
dear one shared. With deep sorrow, we saw the rapid 
strides of disease upon his fiail form. But, little did 
we think that the same fell destroyer was slowly but 
surely undermining the constitution of the hitherto 
strong man, and that my dear Josiah would go first to 
the grave. It is hard fur me to realize tliat I shall 
never see him hero again. At times such a sense of 
desolation comes over me that it is overwhelming. But 
in reviewing his whole decline, I see so mueh mercy 
that I am constrained to say, * lie doeth all things 


'' Tell your dear mother that T now well uiidcrstand 
the mcauino- of something she once said to me after 
your father's death. It was to tliis effeet, ' that I had 
not tried a^eri/ rope in the ship as she had.' She was 
right. Though often called to mourn friemls wlio were 
near and dear, yet I never before experienced a trial 
like this. True, I am surrounded with friends wlio are 
good and kiiul ; hut the deaiest earthly tie is broken, 
the best human friend is gone. "Well — blessed be God, 
there is a fountain to whii-h we can go when our earthly 
cisterns are dried u\: — there is an arm upon wliieh we 
can lean whic h will never fail us. 

" We have a very pleasant boarding place in a quiet 
family 7iear our church, so that nothing but sickness 
will prevent my attendance on the means of grace. I 
greatly desired and pi-ayetl for such a location that I 
might be near the sanctuary, and the Lord granted my 

"I do regret leaving my poor sailors, but this is all 
that troubles me in making this change. Tliis may 
seem strange to those win know how much I enjoyed 
living at the Hospital; but it is true. After my dear 
Josiah's death, every thing appeared different ; and the 
plea-ant things in which I formerly took delight, no 
longer ministered to my enjoyment. I find that the 
rest and fi'eedom from care whieh 1 now enjoy is good 
for my health ; and 1 ])i-ize the time wliii^-h 1 could not 
formeidy command for visiting my dear Christian 

" I am glad to liear your health is so good ; may you 
long be spared to bless your friends and the world. 
Please write soon to your ever aftectionate 

-L. B. Bacon." 


The follawing letter to lior dear friend at Geneva, is 
the last of a correspondence which had been continued 
with interest and constancy for twenty years. 

''3hrch 30th, 1853. 

*' Yon see my beloved, that I hasten to obey that Last 
injunction of your most welcome epistle. 1 reciprocate 
the feeling that although circumstances might prevent 
our writing to each other for ani/ length of time, we 
could never forget our past friendship. Oh no, I shall 
ever remember my precious Elizabeth ; your attachment 
has been a great solace in tlie changes of my pilgrim- 
age. Little did I think the first time I saw you, 
(although that first time furnished me with thoughts 
respecting your future character which have been more 
than realized,) little did I think that my future happi- 
ness wouUl be so interwoven with you. 

" It gives me so much pleasure to hear of your good 
health, and to know that your little girls are such a 
comfort to you. Sweet little Maggie is just the right 
one to senfl on a mission of charity ; for who could 
resist her mild winning way? And it will be a good 
lessen for her even at her early age. We cannot learn 
too soon that we are all sent into this world to perform 
our part in the great drama of life. How much to be 
pitied are those selfish b- ings who live only for their 
own gratification, and seek it in the pursuit of unsatis- 
fying worldly pleasures. 

•' With many thanks for your pressing invitation to 
visit you the connng summer, I am obliged to say that 
although it would give me much pleasure to comply 
with your request, I shall not be able to do so. Should 


my life and health be spared until some future occasion, 
not far distant, I shall visit you and the dear friends afc 
Sackott's Harbor. But my health is so infirm, and my 
age such that I may be soon called to leave tliese sub- 
lunary scenes for brighter ones above. Let your 
prayers ascend that I may grow in grace, and that my 
faitli fail not. Time does not familiarize my mind to 
my lonely situation — and blow after blow falls upon my 
stricken heart. Having no children of my own, I feel 
more tenderly alive to the joys and sorrows of those 
scarcely less dear than children, my nieces and nephews. 
Two of the former have lost the beloved husbands of 
their youth almost in a moment. One died in South 
America with so brief a sickness that he did not speak 
after he was thouo-ht dano-orous. He left a wife and 
two sweet children in a land of strangers with no Christ- 
ian friend to speak to, or Christian mini.ster to perform 
the last sad rights for the dead, and speak consolation 
to the living. 

" The other 3'oung husband died among his friends, 
but with even less warning of his sudden fate. While 
riding to the city with his father in his own carriage, he 
he was thrown and fractured his skull. Thus sadly do 
we realize the oft repeated truth ' in the midst of life, 
\io are in death.^ 

"The last left three lovely children, the eldest of 
whom is not quite four years old. These sad strokes 
have made me almost sick. I love these dear ones and 
deeply feel their sorrows. Are not these sad realities? 

*' I feel my loneliness more and more. I (h) want to 
see you verv much. What a singular Providence that 


your dear fatlier came to see us only a few clays "before 
my dear husband took liis bed. Some friends from 
Crawfordsville, Indiana, came also the day after your 
father left. Each had the satisfaction of a last look of 
him they were to meet no more in this Avorld. Write to 
me, dear E., and believe me as ever your most obliged 
and affectionate 

" Lydia B. Bacox.'^ 

The friend to whom this was addressed little imag- 
ined that it was the closing letter of this long and en- 
dearing correspondence, but so it proved. Perhaps 
none of Mrs. Bacon's friends (if we except her physi- 
cian who was a valued kinsman) realized as fully as 
she did her liability to sudden death. Often has she 
said to the writer while making her feel the unusual 
throbbing of her heart, " I expect to die suddenly ; but 
no matter how sudden if only safe.'^ To another friend 
she used to say, '' I am like the minute man, living only 
by the moment — knowing not what a day may bring 
forth." To others she said, " I know that I have dis- 
ease of the heart and am liable to die at any moment. 
It is my aim to live iu constant readiness for my sum- 
mons. Then, though my death may take other's by 
surprise, it will not startle 7ne.^' During the last 
month of her life, she was visiting in a family where a 
little child before retiring whispered its evening prayers. 
After the child had left the room, she remarked, " I am 
as much a child as that little one. For some time past 
I have not closed my eyes without mentally repeating 
as I used to do in my earliest years. 


' XoAV I lay me do-s\n to slocj), 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep, 
If I should die before I wake, 
I pray the Lord my soul to take.' " 

This remark was made with a smile upon her face, 
but tears stood in her eyes. Although certainly not 
conscious that she was finishing her earthly course, she 
so lived and walked for the last few weeks of her life, 
as to leave upon the minds of many who saw her the 
impression that she was setting her house in order, 
knowing that she must " die and not live.'' 

She had for some weeks employed many of her leis- 
ure moments in copying her journal for the niece who 
resided with her. This she had often promised to do; 
but had not before found sufficient leisure. So intent 
was she now upon fulfilling her promise, that she could 
not be persuaded to delay it, though often suffering 
from the pain in her side of which she makes such fre- 
quent mention in her letters. She was anticipating a 
visit of a few days to Brookline in the month of May — 
and seemed to feel as if every thing she had to do, 
must be accomplished previous to her visit there. " I 
must go up to the Hospital, and visit my poor sailors 
before I go to Brookline," was her exclamation almost 
daily during the week preceding her intended dejiart- 
ure, and she did not rest until she had accomplished it. 
So it was with many other plans and duties — and when 
urged to defer some of them until her return, as she 
had exerted herself too much and needed rest, she 
would reply, " No, I must do present duty in present 
time. Who can tell what will be on the morrow ? '' 


To tlic writer she said, " I do not like to go away and 
leave any tiling undone. Life with me is very uncer- 
tain. I may not live to come back.'^ Anticipating 
that she might possibly not return before the Sabbath, 
and knowino' that a collection iii behalf of one of our 


benevolent societies would be then taken up, she en- 
closed her own contribution in an envelope, saying, *' I 
will have this all ready, and then whatever happens it 
will be right." 

Mrs. Bacon had been very much interested in assist- 
ing the ladies of the Female Benevolent Society, to 
which she belonged, in sustaining a pious young man 
who was fitting for the ministry. He was at this time 
in college ; and Mrs, B. having received from a lady in 
Boston some clothing and a small sum of money for his 
use, could not leave town until she had made ready a 
parcel for him. She finished transcribing her journal 
on Saturday, May 7th — enjoyed the rest and privileges 
of the Sabbath — and on Monday, the 9th, left her lodg- 
ings for the contemplated visit. On her way to the 
omnibus office, she stopped a moment at the writer's 
door to say good-bye. I expressed my regrets that she 
was going on that day, saying to her " we shall miss 
you so much at our female prayer-meeting tomorrow.'^ 
She replied that '' she was very sorry to be absent from 
that meeting, but trusted the Loi^d would be with us. 
and that would be enough without her.'' Then as she 
left my door, she added, '' don't forget to pray for me 
— / believe in the efficacy of 'prayer.^'' These were the 
last words it was my privilege to hear from her lips. 
Had we both known that fact at that moment, what 
more could she have said — what else could I have 


wisliod to hear ! At ]\Irs. F's she also calleil after 
Icaviiio' me; and there she wrote a few lines to £ro with 
the parcel before mentioned to her young friend, the 
student. It was the last page that she, who had for 
so many years held the pen of a ready writer, was ever 
to trace. Yet she knew it not. Had she known it, 
what more appropriate than the following could slit 
have written. 

" My dear young friend — I hopo that you feel en- 
couraged to persevere. It is only mcli who will gain the 
crown. And oh, the delightful thought that after being 
worn out in our master's service, there is a rest in the 
sweet liome above. Let these thoughts comfort, support, 
and stimulate you in your present situation and prepare 
you for further usefulness. May the Holy Spirit ever 
abide with you, is the fervent prayer of your sincere 

'' Lydia B. Bacox.'' 

The letter from whicli the above extract is taken, 
was written Monday, May 9th, and her young friend 
in forwarding it to the writer of these pages, adds 
this brief sentence — *'It is the last line that Mrs. 
Bacon ever wrote me, and when I received it, she had 
* changed worlds.' " 

Mrs. B. left for Brooklino, on Monday, as before 
stated, and arrived at the house of her brother-in-law, 
Mr. Joseph Bacon. That dear home had ever been one 
of her favorite resorts. Congeniality of feeling and of 
religious faith, coupled with the ties of kindred, and 
cemented by mutual worth and excellence, had created 


a warm and lasting attacliment. The beautiful loca- 
tion of their dwelling, and its many embellishments, 
rendered it also a most attractive place to one so fond 
of the beautiful, both in nature and art, as our lamented 
friend. Upon her arrival at Brookline, she was unusu- 
ally cheerful — her duties were finished — no cares 
pressed upon her, and she felt as if she had nothing to 
do but to enjoy the society of her friends and their 
pleasant abode. Yet she received these blessings as 
the direct gift of her heavenly Father's bounty, saying, 
" how good the Lord is now that I have no home of my 
own, to give me so much pleasure in the possessions of 
others. This garden, these flowers smell just as sweetly 
and look just as delightful as if they were mine. It is 
true that God has made them grow and bloom for me.''^ 
Thus she passed three happy days, and on Thursday 
was gladdened by the presence of Mrs. P., from Chel- 
sea, a daughter of the sister-in-law whom she was visit- 
ing. Mrs. F. was a favorite niece both of Mr. and Mrs. 
Bacon, and having resided near them both in Sandwich 
and in Chelsea, had for years given and received the 
most kind and pleasing mutual attentions. Much to 
Mrs. Bacon's gratification, the expected arrival of Mrs. 
F's brother from California, (which was communicated 
by telegraph on Thursday afternoon,) decided Mrs. F. to 
remain at her father's over night, instead of returning 
to Chelsea as she had expected. Just as the family 
were about to retire for the night, Llrs. Bacon com- 
plained of illness ; but taking a little warm drink said 
she should be better soon, and went to her room. Ere 
she was fully undressed, she was seized with vomiting. 
Her friends hearing her went to her room. The vomit- 


ing coasotl, and slie felt ivliownl ami Liy d nvii, sayin!^ 
that slio had fedt stupid and drowsy all the evening and 
thouglit she should sleep. Mrs. F., wlio was to occupy 
the adjoining chamber, then stepped to lier own room, 
leaving the door open between them that she might 
know if her aunt needed any further attentions. But 
she was almost immediately recalled by the voice of 
Mrs. B. saying to her, " Come and hear how I breathe." 
She listened and found her breathing rather unnatu- 
rally, thougli not sufficiently so to excite alarm. After 
a moment's silence, Mrs. Bacon said very deliberately 
and calmly, "Augusta, I think I am going to dieJ^ 
Mrs. F. replied " that she lioped not, slie saw no reason 
to think so," and said " she would call her mother, and 
they would try to give her something to relieve her.'' 
Mrs. F's mother came in immediately, and to her ^Irs. 

Bacon said, " S , you little thought I had come to 

your house to die, but so it is, and it is all riglit ; I am 
glad I am here — it is a good place." Her sister said 
" she hoped she was mistaken, she could not think she 
was going to die ; " and some one now proposed to send 
for a physician, telling her to keep up good courage, 
and not to be nervous. '' I am not nervous or fright- 
ened," was the calm reply. " AVhy should I be afraid 
to die ? I have thought of it too long : — I am ready if 
it is God's will." Thougli she now labored increasingly 
for breath, and seemed much distressed, lier friends still 
hoped she might be relieved, and tried to persuade her 
to think so. But she replied steadily to them all, " no, 
it is the death-strife, the death-strife — T have seen it too 
many times to be deceived." To Mrs. F., who was, 
most assiduously tending her, and supporting her in 


her arms, she said, " Augusta, this is what you stayed 
here for — how good God is to me in letting me die 
here, and with you hy my side. Oh, the goodness of 
God, the goodness of God — it is just as I woukl have it 
— every thing — -just right/' These hroken utterances 
were followed hy whispered ejaculations of praise and 
prayer, expressive of her deep thankfulness for the 
mercies of God's grace and Providence ; and thus, in a 
few hrief moments, she passed away. Ere the physi- 
cian so hastily summoned, could arrive — ere Anna, (the 
young niece who resided with her, and had accompanied 
her on this visit) could he hrought from the house of 
another friend where she had gone to pass the night, 
Mrs. Bacon had slept the sleep of death. Her heart 
had ceased to heat, her pulse was forever stilled. But 
her death — how tranquil, how serene. No grim mes- 
senger, no king of terrors was the death-angel to her 
prepared and waiting soul. Oh, no, the death-shaft was 
only her heavenly Father's call to her eternal home. 
She was ready to go — there need he no delay — and 
scarcely heeding the efforts of loving friends to detain 
her, she oheyed the summons. How heautiful, how 
hefitting a close to a life like hers. Thanks be to God 
that "so he giveth his beloved sleep.'' ^ 

It was impossible but that a life of active henevo- 
lence, of zealous piety like that we have been contem- 
plating, should have gained many and warm friends. 
The announcement of Mrs. Bacon's death in so sudden 
and unexpected a manner to the community in which 
she had so long lived and labored, of course created a 
universal sensation of surprise and regret. The writer 
was tlie hearer of this sad intelligence to the inmates of 


the Hosi)ital, and tlic shock of amazoinont and iriiof 
with v\diich lior tidings were received will not soon be 
forgotten. But most painfnl was the emotion of those 
sisters in Christ, who had so long witnessed lier tears 
and prayers for Zion, so often shared in her labors, and 
participated with her in the communion of saints. The 
pastor and his family, with whose joys and sorrows, 
successes and discouragements she had always identified 
herself, felt this blow the most keenly. A sad and 
silent congregation, we gathered, on Saturday, May 
14th, to the church where our deceased friend had so 
devotedly worshiped. There, on the Sabbath previous, 
we had met her in life and health — now, we o-azed on 
her mortal remains beneath the coffin-lid. How im- 
pressive was the voice which seemed to come to us from 
those closed lips, " Be ye also ready ; for in such an 
hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometli.'^ The 
funeral services were most appropriately conducted by 
her pastor, Rev. Isaac P. Langworthy ; after whicli her 
remains were followed to their resting-place beside her 
lamented husband in Woodlawn Cemetery. In this 
beautiful sanctuary for the dead, (which is one liour's 
ride from Boston, via Chelsea), Mr. and ]Mrs. Bacon 
had, previously to the death of the former, sidccted 
their place of sepulchre. Ai'ter her husband's inter- 
ment, Mrs. B. often visited tlie spot, and the delight 
which she expressed in it, as well as the cliet'rful satis- 
faction with which she spjke of soon occupying her 
place by his side, is still fre.-^h in the memory of the 
writer. The green sod which covers their ])r(H-ious dust 
will be often moistened by the tears of kindred and 
affection ; and angels shall watch over that dust, 


» Till God shall bid it rise." 

It is not pi-oposcd to add to this brief account of Mrs. 
Bacon's closing hours any remarks by M'ay of eulooy. 
" Her works praise her in tlie gates,'' — her memorial is 
in the h(>arts of all who knew her. 

A few lin(>s written hastily upon the day of her fu- 
neral, by one who loved avd lamented her, will be here 
inserted. They are given to the public at the request 
of friends, and not on account of any poetic merit. 

" What mean those deep sighs wafted forth on the air, 
As we enter in silence yon temple of prayer ? 
We hear not the notes of rejoicing and praise, — 
All mute is the song and hushed are the lays, 
And sadly we gather to weep and to pray, 
For ' a mother in Israel ' has fallen to-day. 

AVith what Christian devotion among us she moved ! 
By word and example her faith well approved ; 
With what wisdom and love the Master slie served, 
Nor e'er from the path of fidelity swerved: 
Our Zion, bereaved, must lamentingl} say. 
That * a mother in Israel ' has fallen to-day. 

How kindly she succored the sick and distressed — 
The needy she aided, the stranger she blessed — 
To the couch of the poor dying sailor she came. 
And taught him to trust in Immanuel's name : 
So * the sons of the Ocem ' may feelingly say, 
That * a mother in Israel ' has fallen to-day. 

In the circle of prayer where weekly she bore 
The cross of her Saviour, Ave meet her no more : 


No more shall her fervent petitions arise, 
And bear our united requests to the skies ; 
Ah ! sisters in Christ, ice must join the sad lay — 
For ' a mother in Israel ' has fallen to-day. 

Yes — her course she has finished — her labor is done — 
And the race of the Christian triumjjhantly run. 

* The voice of the Bridegroom ' is heard in the night — 
But it fills not her soul with surprise or affiight. 

* ^Tis the death-strife ' she says, as she struggles for breath, 
And calmly she yields to the summons of death. 

Yes — her spirit has fled fiom its temple of clay, 
And ' a mother in Israel ' has fallen to-day." 

With tlie feeling responses of friends at a distance 
to the tidings cf Mrs. Bacon's decease, this un])reten<ling 
volume will be closed ; the writer rejoicing in having 
accomplished (thougli tardily) her labor of love ; and 
regretful only that the task had not devolved on one 
more competent. 

The first extracts are from the letters of her beloved 
friends at Sackett's Harbjr, addressed to her niece. 

" Our minds were in a measure prepared for the 
mournful tidings which your letter contained. A friend 
of ours just returned from a journey, report( d that she 
read the death of our dear Mrs. Bacon in a paper, al- 
though she could not remember where it took place. 
We were very anxious to know the truth, but felt un- 
willing to write, and tiied to hope it was a mistake. 
Your communication has removed all doubt, and con- 
firmed our fears. We sine* rely sympatliize with you 
in this great affliction, tltough we doubt not it was for 
her a happy release. We little thought that she would 


SO soon follow lier doar husband ; but we can say of 
them, ' they were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and 
in their death they were not divided.' I feel that I 
have lost a dear and tried friend ; and my heart asks, 
who will fill her place in the church of Christ? '' 

Says another, " I must add a word to express the 
sorrow that I feel at the melancholy tidings contained 
in your letter. Sad to us, and to you, and to all those 
left behind; but not, I trust, a sad reality to her who 
has now entered upon her final rest. She is now, I 
doubt not, joyously uniting her praises with the spirit 
of ber lost one gone before. How short a time she 
survived him ! Dear, excellent couple ; surely we 
have cause to rejoice with them. 

" Ever since my early childhood, the names of these 
friends have been household words with us, and they 
seemed like part of our own family. Now they add 
new attractions to that unseen world whither we are all 

The next extract is from the letter of her friend at 
Geneva, with whom she had so long cojrespondcd and 
^vhom she had so often addressed as her dear and loved 

'' Your letter, bringing the first intelligence to us of 
the departure of our long and ardently loved, but now 
sainted friend, caused weeping and mourning in all our 
lijusehold. For who loved her as we did ? B.'fore you 
knew her, we loved her as a mother. Yes — my very 
eailiest re'uiembrances are of her and her winnino;, lov- 


ing ways. She was a model "botli as a woman and a 
Christian ; and I prayed that her life might be spared, 
so that I might have the privilege of her example in 
my family for my dear children's sake as well as my 
own. Oh, shall I not see her again ? Must it be that 
we shall no longer have her prevailing prayers for us. 
" It was very kind in you to give us the particulars 
of her sudden exit. How few are so well prepared for 
the coming of the Son of Man ! * Always ready,' was 
her motto. AVhat a rich legacy has she left us in her 
example ! And her prayers treasured up for years will 
not, cannot be lost. If saints can look upon those they 
have left behind, can revisit the scenes they loved on 
earth, can minister to those who were near their hearts 
during their pilgrimage, may not we here be allowed 
the pleasing hope that she will be a messenger of mercy 
to us sometimes? Dear loved one ! we would not call 
you back ; we would rather try to bear our loss, resting 
assured that it is great gain to you. And if when on 
earth you so delighted to recount the mercies of the 
Lord and his wonderful dealings with you and yours, 
oh, with how much clearer vision will you now talk with 
the loved companion whom you liave rejoined, of the way 
in which you were led to your heavenly home ! 

" I do wish Mrs. could be persuaded to write a 

brief memoir of the eventful and useful life of our 
departed friend. I know of no work of the kind extant 
that would surpass it in interest and usefulness. All 
who were acquainted with Mrs. B. would add their 
testimony to mine, for 

' Xonc knew her but to love her.' " 


The following letter from the accomplished lady of 
one of our most useful foreign missionaries will be read 
with deep interest. Mrs. Bacon's interest in her when a 
child, her influence over her, and their consequent 
attachment, have heen referred to already in these 
pages. But we will let her tell her own story, and her's 
shall be the closing testimony to the worth of one whose 
life and death we present as an example to those who 
would remember the teachings of an apostle, '* Be not 
slothful, but followers of them who through faith and 
patience inherit the promises." 

''Honolulu, OaJm Valley, Bee, 20th, 1853. 

" I was not surprised to hear of dear Aunt Bacon's 
death, though I deplore it most deeply. I feel that I 
have indeed lost a friend — the friend of my childhood 
and orphanage, as well as of womanhood and prosperity. 
Her love was the same steady sunbeam to me in all the 
varied phases of light and shadow in my somewhat 
eventful life. Blessed bo God ! It is indeed true as 
you say, ' in this cold and heartless world how refreshing 
to know that love and friendship have not quite died 
out, from the abundant testimony of our own hearts.' 

" My first acquaintance with Mrs. B. commenced at 
Saclvott's Harbor, in the summer of 181G or '17, when 
Mr. B. was Commissary in the army. They boarded 

with Mrs. G , a friend of mine, with whom I at that 

time resided in my eleventh or twelfth year. Mrs. B. 
noticed and petted me a great deal, and I used to snatch 
every moment of leisure to sit in her room reading to 
her or listenins: to her words of interest and instruction. 


Her many tokens of kindness I sliall never for^'et. I 
never received a gift that afforded me more pleasure 
tlian lier first to me ; it was a fan just like the one she 
herself used. I have since then possessed more splendid 
and gorgeous ones of French tinsel and down, gay man- 
darins and birds of Paradise 'Celestial made'; but 
none were ever so valued by me as that first pretty fan 
of buff and ivory. 

*' The first hackney-coach ever driven through those 
long forest roads of mud and log-causeway, was one 
from New York city to Sag Harbor, belonging to Mr. 
Bacon's brother. Mr. and Mrs. B., having just recovered 
from a fever, used to ride daily. My first long ride in 
that coach I well remember. I was very happy, and 
Mrs. B. seeing my enjoyment of the ride said to me, 

* L , you will be a lady and ride in your own 

carriage some day.' Her words made a deep impression. 
I resolved I would he a lady like her, though I should 
be poor and have no carriage. The winter following 
Mrs. B. went to housekeeping and I attended school, 
whither she used to send me many a beautiful pie and 
cake ornamented by her own hand. 

*' Mrs. B. organized two benevolent societies that year, 
aided by ladies of the officers in the army and navy. 
She was very active and very successful. I recollect 
lier first Report, which was printed in the newspaper — a 
very unusual occurrence in those days. Society at 
Sackett's Harbor was very gay at that time, amounting 
really to dissipation. Mrs. B. used to attend their 
social gatherings, but protested earnestly against their 
excesses in dress, amusements, <Is:c. I have seen her 
weep in her expostulation with those she loved. 


" I left Sackett's Harbor in 1819 to give and receive 
instruction, and we did not meet again until seven years 
had passed. Great changes had taken place with us 
both. She was overtaken with adversity, but was the 
same accomplished and graceful woman while perform- 
ing those labors for herself which she had been accus- 
tomed to have rendered by others, as when she kept her 
servants and rode in her own carriage. I had found a 
Saviour since we parted, had publicly professed my faith 
in him, and completed my education ; and she was 
gratified to find her pet and protege so near fj^lfilling 
her prophetic aspirations. 

" Her interest in the missionary enterprise was not 
diminished when she next addressed me at the Sandwich 

Islands. You, my dear Mrs. , who have been 

equally favored with her friendship and correspondence, 
can understand what a rich treasure I have possessed in 
the counsels and guardianship of such a ' mentor.^ 

" What moral dignity gathers around the life of such 
a woman ! Ever busy was she in scattering sunshine 
and blessing in the dwellings of the poor, consoling the 
widow, drying the orphan's tear, and strewing flowers of 
faith, hope and charity in the footsteps of every fellow- 
being whom her influence could reach.'' 


8 1935